


Don't Say Goodbye

by dovingbird



Series: Ninja Ship Party - Commissions [1]
Category: Game Grumps
Genre: A Mini Slow Burn, Demisexual Brian, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, M/M, Pining, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 22:10:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11068140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: Brian’s pouring himself a second shot when there’s a knock at the door. He instinctively looks around as he gets to his feet – maybe one of the Grumps left something before they left – and he opens the door, mouth opening to greet them. The words never come out.Danny’s there leaning against the doorframe, grinning, hair in his face. “Surprise?” Danny says with that tinkly little laugh that Brian loves.Brian forgets how to breathe.~~~A filled commission. Here's the thing: Brian's always been in love with Danny. He knows it's a lost cause. He moved to London just to get over it. The unfortunate thing is, now that he's in California with him, he seems to be more in love with Dan than ever, and no amount of self-sabotage seems to be fixing it.





	Don't Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Whtevrhpnd2mary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whtevrhpnd2mary/gifts).



> TW: emetophobia and frank discussion of homophobia

_“We could really use you, y’know, Bri.”_  
  
The thoughts reverberate in Brian’s head as loudly as they would if spoken in his empty apartment. He stands in the center of it, studying the shadows playing across the corners and the sunbeams on the ceiling.  
  
_“What would you even want me to do, Arin, make dick jokes on your Twitter? Someone else can pull double duty with that. You don’t need to pay me for it.”_  
  
There’s a simplicity in it being this empty. It’s far too much space for him, of course, and it’s frankly ridiculously sized for California prices. But Arin had been generous, and who was Brian to turn down generosity in the form of fat stacks of money?  
  
_“C’mon, you know you’re more than that. You’re brilliant, you’ve got a good head for business, and you can’t tell me you don’t think the fans would fucking eat up five minutes of you in an episode. They love you, dude.”_  
  
The bedroom was tiny, sure, and the bathroom was in the hallway instead of en suite, but the huge living room with the massive picture window and the balcony made up for it. No bay window, but that’s all right – Brian likes having room to grow.  
  
_“Don’t try to appeal to my vanity. Your lineup’s full enough. You’ve got Ross. Suzy. Barry. Danny.”_  
  
Brian wanders to the sliding doors. Even here, his heart pounds, and he swallows hard. He doesn’t need to be thinking or hoping too hard, not when disappointment is inevitable. He should simply enjoy the view that he’s given and thank his lucky stars.  
  
_“So? We’re growing, man. And we’ll work better when you’re around, I know it. You’re challenging. And Danny’ll shit his pants if he gets to have you down here full time.”_  
  
He pushes the glass open before he can hesitate. He steps onto the balcony. The wind blows through his graying hair and the sun digs deep into the wrinkles on his face. He’s too old for optimism; he’s built for realism.  
  
_“Is that what Danny told you?”_  
  
But his heart thuds on nonetheless as he leans over the edge of the balcony and watches a familiar car pull in next to the Uhaul he rented for his furniture shopping trip today.  
  
_“What do you mean? You and Danny are best friends. You’ve been working together for years. He’s told me he wants to get you down here so many times that I wanna punch him in the face.”_  
  
But when the doors open, Barry crawls out of the driver’s seat. Arin’s on the other side. Ross and Suzy and Holly climb out from the back. And Brian’s heart slows so much that it’s cold and dead in his chest.  
  
_“...well. I mean, I have been needing a change. You know how fucking exhausting grading gets? I’d rather stick my dick in a fireplace.”_  
  
Of course. He knew this coming in. But the sting is still fresh, and it’s only years of improv that keeps Brian’s face still until he can let out his stale air and lean over his balcony to raise a hand. “Yo.”  
  
_“It’ll be a good change, man. Burn your textbooks. Check out some apartments around the area online. I’ll fax you over a contract and we can talk pay, okay? Any questions you’ve got, just send them to me or Danny and we’ll get right back to you.”_  
  
“Yo!” Barry waves from the ground, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.  
  
Holly gives a hesitant smile, tucked behind Ross, and Ross is busy finishing a sentence to her and laughing, but Suzy beams at him and Arin practically splits his face in half with how hard he’s grinning. “C’mon, pillow princess,” Arin calls, “you gonna make us do all the work or are you gonna get down here and pull your weight?”  
  
“A moving company was in my contract,” Brian fires back, his lips quirking.  
  
“Moving _assistance!_ Don’t make me dock your pay already!”  
  
Brian rolls his eyes. “I can still get a ticket back. Don’t test me.”  
  
“I’ll test your ass all I want, get the fuck down here!”  
  
Brian laughs without realizing he even wants to and waves them off as he steps inside. He listens to them jabber as he shuts the door and slides on his shoes.  
  
_“I look forward to our negotiations, then. I won’t lie, it’d be good to be around your ugly face. Makes me look better by comparison.”_  
  
Brian comes down the sidewalk and sees Ross attempting to heave the back of the Uhaul open while Suzy shakes her head and sighs beside him. Suzy steps forward, pulls Ross out of the way, and opens the door in one fell swoop.  
  
“Nice, babe,” Arin says, holding up his hand, and she high-fives him with a grin.  
  
“Where’s Dan?” Brian asks.  
  
_“Don’t lie to me, old man, you’re just looking forward to getting back to sucking Danny’s dick, and we all know it.”_  
  
Barry winces. “Not feeling well. Like, seriously, he was throwing up all night. Not a pretty picture. I told him he’s in charge of cleaning the bathroom.”  
  
_“Don’t be jealous, Arin. I’ll Skype you when I’ve gotten a chance to look over that contract, okay?”_  
  
Brian swallows down the knot in his throat. “Well, he’d be holding us up with those noodle arms of his anyway.” He comes around the back of the truck and crawls inside, grabbing the new keyboard he’d purchased. “Thank you all for coming. Seriously. I’ll buy you all pizza. We can take selfies and send them to Danny and see if we can get him to puke his guts up even more.”  
  
“Brian, please,” Barry whines. He holds his arms out for the keyboard, but Brian hops down, cradling it like a baby.  
  
“Just grab what you can,” Brian says, “and put it anywhere. I don’t fucking know where I want shit yet. I’ll figure it out as I go.”  
  
“We’re here to help,” Suzy reminds him, bumping her shoulder against his. “I designed Barry and Danny’s whole apartment. Don’t be afraid to ask for feng shui advice or something.”  
  
Brian wants to joke back. He does. But his chest hurts and his heart is heavy, and all he can manage is, “Arrange it for the most money, Scuze, I’m counting on you.”  
  
“That’s Dan’s nickname for her,” Arin says near his ear as he follows Brian with an armful of sofa pillows. “Seriously, he’ll fight you for it.”  
  
“Then let him come,” Brian murmurs back. “At least that way I’ll get to see him.”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
So it turns out that the Grump team and Holly are actually pretty decent people to be around. No one complained about the amount of furniture that had to be moved. They were all pretty decent conversationalists, and they kept Brian laughing all day even when the maudlin gray clouds started to creep in around his mind. He’d known they couldn’t be shitty people – not if Danny loved them so much – but there was something soothing about knowing for sure that their pleasant demeanor didn’t disappear after a Skype call or convention.  
  
They still had to leave, however, and as soon as Brian shuts the door behind them, the clouds sweep in again.  
  
_I moved here for a job,_ he tells himself. _I moved here for better opportunities for collaboration. I gave up a perfectly comfortable and intellectually stimulating job so that I could pursue my dreams before it’s too late._  
  
It’s a crock of shit and he knows it.  
  
Though Brian hadn’t offered them any booze while they were there, in deference to Arin and Suzy, there’s nothing to stop him from eying his bottle of whiskey while he packs up the leftover pizza that he’ll be eating on for the next fucking week. He gets one plastic bag zipped up before he’s grabbing the bottle and staring at it.  
  
It’s not like he’s ever done anything he regrets while tipsy, he thinks dryly, especially if he started shots when he was feeling sad.  
  
Brian nurses a dram while he works on the rest of the pizza and, like always, the alcohol loosens up the gears in his mind. He wanders far and wide – back to England, back to New Jersey, back to a particular email he still has saved and that he’s memorized.  
  
It’s fun to lie. But not to himself.  
  
“I moved here for Dan,” he makes himself say as he wanders out to the couch, and sighs as he sits. “I moved here to see him every day. I moved here to challenge myself to handle all of my thoughts better. And I will.”  
  
It feels like a mantra. Brian’s been through therapy – you don’t lose your parents earlier than you expect without meeting a professional – and he can feel the positivity and mindfulness practices sinking into place without consciously summoning them.  
  
_Danny is my best friend. He’s my teammate. He’s a man who knows exactly what he wants. And his friendship isn’t a consolation prize._  
  
Brian’s pouring himself a second shot when there’s a knock at the door. He instinctively looks around as he gets to his feet – maybe one of the Grumps left something before they left – and he opens the door, mouth opening to greet them. The words never come out.  
  
Danny’s there leaning against the doorframe, grinning, hair in his face. “Surprise?” Danny says with that tinkly little laugh that Brian loves.  
  
Brian forgets how to breathe.  
  
“Holy shit,” Dan murmurs, “you actually forgot who I was. You fucking old man. I knew the memory loss was gonna start creeping in, but-”  
  
“Fuck you.” Brian takes a step back to let him in, but Danny laughs again and launches himself forward, wrapping his arms around Brian. The squeeze he gives makes bubbles overflow inside of Brian, frothing straight from his heart and over his muscles.  
  
“You’re here!” Danny says. He pulls back, hands still on Brian’s arms, and sweeps his gaze up and down Brian’s body. “Holy shit, man, how long’s it been?”  
  
_Too long._ Brian finally remembers to smile. He squeezes Danny’s arm, then tugs him inside. “You’re letting the mosquitoes in.”  
  
“So karate chop them away, Ninja Brian,” Dan teases. He shrugs off his leather jacket, spinning in a slow circle to take everything in. “This is great! How’d you luck out on this?”  
  
“Killed a man.” Brian takes the jacket and sways a little as he goes to hang it up. He’s hazy and his balance is thrown off more than he wants to admit. “Of course, now that you know, I have to kill you too.”  
  
“Well, we already knew that’s how I’m going out.”  
  
Brian pauses at the closet once he hangs the coat up. He analyzes his body. His heart’s pounding hard enough that he wouldn’t be surprised if he needed an ambulance. He can already feel a flush on his cheeks. His palms are getting sweaty. And, what’s more, he can’t blame it all on the alcohol, fuck.  
  
“Not gonna show me around?” Danny asks with two distant thuds as he kicks his shoes off.  
  
“Right,” Brian says. He clears his throat and closes the closet. He points. “Bedroom. Bathroom. Kitchen. Couch. Done.”  
  
“Smartass.” Danny’s eyes twinkle as he wanders past Brian into the kitchen, and Brian’s eyes follow him like magnets. “Nice kitchen! New appliances?”  
  
He has no idea. “Yeah, they heard I was coming, they put them in especially for me.”  
  
Danny laughs. “I mean, who _wouldn’t_ go out of their way for you? Big time Doctor Wecht – universally adored by students, parents, and faculty.”  
  
“But not by moving companies,” Brian tosses back as he leans against the wall and watches Danny look away, his face going a little flat. “Or by people who promised to lend a hand.”  
  
“Dude, I was sick out of my mind.” Danny moves further into the kitchen, out of sight around the corner. “Next time if you want my vomiting sharting ass near your nice new furniture, I’ll be there.”  
  
Brian stares at the floor, both nursing his aching chest and accepting the rebuttal. He antagonizes Danny. They both know that. If Danny wore pigtails, Brian would tug them every second of every day.  
  
Danny pops around the kitchen, but his face is lit up with a smile and his eyes twinkle. “Anyway, I’m here now, and you haven’t even offered me a drink.”  
  
“Right,” Brian says dryly. He pokes Danny in the stomach and as he leaps away with a loud complaint Brian’s lips quirk. “Right, your stomach can totally handle my whiskey, we both know that so well.”  
  
“You’re drinking alone?” Dan wanders past him. “Seriously? There’s bars everywhere near here, man, you could’ve gone out and gotten some company, not sit inside like a sad old guy.”  
  
“Sad Hoshi,” Brian murmurs, and Danny laughs. “I’ll get you something, hold on.”  
  
Danny plops on the couch, his ratty disgusting socks and his long legs stretched out under the coffee table while Brian collects a shot glass and disappears down the hallway. When Brian comes back with a glass full of a thick pink liquid, Dan stares at him. “Really?” he asks, visibly trying not to laugh.  
  
“For sick little boys with sick little tummies.” Brian sits next to him – too close, close enough that their thighs press together – and leans over to hold it in front of his mouth. “Drink for Daddy, c’mon little Dan.”  
  
“Fuck you!” Danny laughs and grabs the glass, holding it out of Brian’s reach, but that doesn’t stop Brian from leaning in for it, a hand on Dan’s thigh for balance. “Hey, not too frisky, I don’t go all the way on the first date.”  
  
“That’s a lie.” Brian finally hops up and grabs the shot glass of Pepto, then goes to the kitchen to pour it out and fill a tall glass with water. “We both know if I had better tits you’d be all over me.”  
  
“Yeah, keep fooling yourself, Brian!”  
  
He does. And he will. As Brian settles into a long few hours of Dan’s company, he accepts one thing: any disappointment he ever has in Danny will always be short lived, regardless of how he may hurt Brian.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
It comes in waves.  
  
First, it’s just a mouth on his shoulder, gentle and seeking. The teeth nibbling at his skin are pleasant, and Brian leans into them with a gasp, his closed eyelashes fluttering. When was the last time he had someone give him even a little taste of pain? When was the last time he let himself revel in it?  
  
Then, there’s a large hand dragging over his body, running over the soft rolls of his stomach and brushing through the fine hairs on his chest. It’s warm, far bigger than Brian expects, and certainly friendly with how it pinches at his nipples and sends spikes of warmth straight through his body. He catches his breath and gives into it. The last thing he wants is to be in control right now.  
  
Finally, there’s the cock that pushes inside of him without any warning. Brian lets the slight weight of his partner roll him onto his belly, and he moans at the rhythmic roll of the thrusts inside of him. It’s incredible. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.  
  
“Say that you’re mine,” Danny whispers against his ear, hands warm on his hips as he makes love to Brian in the darkness.  
  
“Fuck,” Brian moans, “ _fuck,_ I’m yours, Danny, I’ve always been yours.”  
  
Danny kisses the sensitive shell of his ear and exhales sharply. “Say I’m everything you’ve ever wanted.”  
  
“I’d give up everything for you, you know that, please-”  
  
“Say you’ll always be with me,” Danny requests as he snaps his hips forward.  
  
Brian cries out, arching his back, needing anything Dan will give him, just like he always has. “I’ll burn the fucking world down for you, Dan, I-I don’t need anything but you-”  
  
“Good,” Danny murmurs with a grin, his eyelashes tickling Brian’s neck. “So you’ll do me a favor, right?”  
  
“Anything,” Brian whispers, meeting every little movement of his hips with a push back.  
  
Dan twists Brian’s neck so he can breathe the words against his mouth. _“Wake up.”_  
  
“What?”  
  
Brian startles awake with a gasp. The world spins around him and rights itself when he’s on his stomach, his hips still weakly stuttering into the sheets. He’s...he’s in his pajamas. His hands are fisted in the sheets. And he’s alone.  
  
Fuck, he aches. Brian sits up on his knees with a groan and reaches, absently feeling that he’s still hard and hasn’t had a wet dream like a goddamn teenager. But the ache is there – not just in his sweatpants, but in his chest too, and Brian rakes a hand through his hair and sits back on his shins and sighs.  
  
Danny had been there hours ago. He and Brian had a perfectly normal night, just like best friends do. They shared stories and Brian complained about the jet lag and having to take a melatonin every night just to get up at a remotely decent hour. And then Dan had left. He’d given Brian a quick hug and told him he’d see him in the office on Monday, and then he was gone.  
  
There’s no need for sleep, Brian decides. His clock says that it’s four in the morning. He can make it through a Sunday on that level of sleep. He climbs out of bed, wincing at his creaky old joints, and rubs the back of his neck as he trudges into the kitchen to make coffee.  
  
As he waits for it to brew, he rubs his face and tries to forget how much of a waste this entire trip was. After all, he’d moved to London to fall out of love with Danny, his heterosexual best friend, and all that happened was that the absence made his heart grow fonder.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
Brian is an intellectual man. He thinks through things logically and grants them the attention that they deserve, and then, if something isn’t worth considering anymore, he lets it go just as quickly. Emotions are full of folly and they ruin proper research results, and the last thing he’ll ever do is let them get the best of him.  
  
Which does not in fact explain why Brian’s first day in the Grump office has him staring at Danny and Suzy across the room like the most jealous lover alive.  
  
_A hypothesis,_ Brian thinks as he slurps his coffee loudly – then frowns when it doesn’t attract their attention – _if a man is truly, painfully, and honestly jealous, then his vision will be tinged with green._  
  
His vision isn’t green at all. In fact, it’s clear as day. So therefore he isn’t jealous. He’s a scientist; he has a PHD. He can approve very scientific and well-researched hypotheses like that with no sweat. And therefore he can keep on living his life and doing specific things that won’t be detrimental or annoying in any way.  
  
Like, for example, wandering over to Danny and Suzy and slinging his arm around her shoulder.  
  
Dan cuts off in the middle of his sentence, but Suzy simply pats Brian’s arm and smiles up at him. “Hi Brian.”  
  
“Hey Scuze,” Brian says, pausing for only half a second to see Danny’s eyebrows shoot up and Suzy looking at him intently. “So Arin tells me the entire reason that this office runs smoothly is because of you. Is that true?”  
  
Danny is still staring at him. Brian can feel his eyes burning into his profile. But Suzy simply shrugs. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s the _entire_ reason, but-”  
  
“No no, it’s okay, you don’t have to protect the wild animals you work with.” Brian touches his chest. “I’ve worked with Dan for years. I’m more than happy to give you all the credit you deserve if you’re keeping him in line.”  
  
Suzy laughs, and the fact that she doesn’t even once look away from Brian’s face tells him that she’s completely unaware at the way that the tendons in Dan’s neck are tensing. “They’re busy men. I just help keep them on track.”  
  
“Nonsense. You don’t have to protect them, not to me. You’re a busy woman with two channels, a home to run, cats to take care of, and the fact that they rely on you so heavily is, well...”  
  
Dan interrupts. “He wants something.” When he and Brian lock gazes, Dan’s staring at him hard, like he’s trying to crack the code. “What do you want, Bri?”  
  
“Nothing.” Brian scoffs. “I’m just trying to give our dear Scuze the credit she’s due.”  
  
His eyes turn hot. “Now listen just a minute,” Danny starts to say.  
  
“Anyway.” Brian looks down at Suzy and beams at her. “They’ve completely ruined order in the kitchen, so would you mind helping me find the coffee?”  
  
“Sure!” Suzy chirps. She squeezes Dan’s wrist and begins guiding Brian away, his arm still around her shoulder.  
  
“You’re a lifesaver,” Brian says, deliberately not looking back. He doesn’t even need to. He can feel Danny trying to scorch marks into his back. “I’d be utterly lost without you, I think. All of them would be.”  
  
Suzy drops her voice as they round the corner. “Yeah, see, here’s the thing, though: you know only Danny’s allowed to call me Scuze.”  
  
“Is he?” Brian asks in feigned shock.  
  
“Mm-hmm.” She turns on him in the kitchen, her arms crossed over her chest. “So what exactly is your angle?”  
  
He smiles. “Don’t give me that much credit.”  
  
“How much credit _should_ I give you?”  
  
“Exactly what is due, which is barely any at all. You don’t even know me.”  
  
“I don’t have to know you to know you’re trying to instigate something.” She lifts her chin primly. “I’ll ask you two questions, and then I’ll stay out of it: you and Danny are best friends, correct?”  
  
“Yes.” The answer comes as easily as breathing.  
  
“Then are you doing something to deliberately hurt him?”  
  
For the first time, Brian begins to understand exactly how formidable a woman Arin married. He’s not sure if he owes her honesty or sincerity, but just the directness of her gaze is enough to unlock both of those things. “I’ve never once intended to cause Danny direct pain.”  
  
Suzy narrows her eyes and flicks them over his face; they feel like the most effective lie detector test. _They should pay her to interrogate,_ Brian thinks as Suzy opens her mouth again. “I want you to do me a favor, then.”  
  
He and she both know that he can listen without being obligated to do it. So he does. “Name it.”  
  
“If you get your rocks off on humiliating him, save it for a comedy routine, okay?”  
  
Brian’s heart twists in his chest, turning solid and weighty. It feels like it could drop into his feet at any moment. Instead of losing his grip on it, he focuses on quirking an eyebrow and keeping as comically stoic a face as he can. “But Suzy, how else am I supposed to rediscover my passion for sadism?”  
  
“You and me both know you haven’t lost touch with that,” she teases as she takes a few steps away. She plucks up the coffee tin, right in plain sight on the counter, and shoves it into his chest. “I mean it, Bri. I love Danny to death. I’m not gonna let anything hurt him.”  
  
_It must be extraordinary to be loved that deeply by so many people,_ Brian thinks tightly. “Understood.”  
  
Suzy smiles and moves to leave.  
  
Brian turns on his heel. “Suzy?”  
  
“Mm?” She pauses in the door.  
  
“Remind me never to piss you off,” Brian says, lips quirking in a smile. “I think you’d take just as much pleasure in ripping someone to shreds as I do.”  
  
“Please, you’re gonna make me blush!”  
  
As Suzy leaves his sight, Brian leans back against the counter and considers the coffee tin. Apparently he’s lost subtlety in his old age. He meant what he said – he has no intention of truly hurting Dan – but he can’t deny the part of himself that craves a very specific reaction from him.  
  
Quite honestly, he needs Danny to be annoyed enough at him that he puts Brian in his place, so that Brian learns for once and for all that there’s no chance of anything between them.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
The text is first.  
  
_”Hey do you wanna get together this weekend and work on some songs?”_  
  
Dan’s reply takes a good three hours, after which Brian is already grinding his teeth with impatience.  
  
_”Nah man I’ve got plans but soon okay?”_  
  
Soon. Brian’s not sure how to schedule for that, given that he’s not sure it’s a day of the week, but Dan’s a busy man. He can’t get too pissed at him for that. Or so Brian thinks.  
  
Two weeks go by with no attempt at scheduling anything.  
  
Dan’s tucked on his couch with Barry at work, discussing some edits that Barry’s thinking of making, when Brian decides to interrupt. “So.”  
  
Danny looks up and flashes him a smile. “Hey, what’s up?”  
  
“Soon.” Brian perches on the edge of the couch arm. He rests his hand on the back of the couch, feeling the tickle of Dan’s jacket against it. “You said we’d work on songwriting ‘soon.’ Remind me when that is again? June? July?”  
  
Danny glances over at Barry. “Hey, Bear, you’re the smart one here – what month is ‘soon’ in?”  
  
“Uh.” Barry looks between the both of them. As teasing as Dan’s tone clearly is, Barry doesn’t seem to be able to decipher Brian’s expression, and he starts collecting his notebook and pen and loose paper instead. “...you know what, I’m just, I’m gonna go get to work, so Dan, uh, let me know if you’ve changed your mind about anything, okay?”  
  
“Yeah, man, no problem!” Dan’s voice is bright and cheery as he gives a little wave, and he sits back on the couch and tucks his arms behind his neck as he puts those bright – beautiful – eyes on Brian’s once more. “I’ve just, I’ve got a lot going on right now, Brian, you get that, right?” He cocks his head.  
  
A kind man would defer to this. He’d see that Dan was happy and settled and looked as if he’d actually gotten fucking sleep the night before, and he’d just leave it. But Brian isn’t kind. He’s never professed to be kind once in his entire life. So he stares at Danny, frowning, using the silence to his advantage.  
  
Dan’s smile fades. “Brian?”  
  
Brian waits.  
  
“You’re not really mad, are you, dude?”  
  
Brian huffs. “No, of course not.” He stands up and starts walking away. “Just wondering why I even got moved down here if I’m not gonna be doing any work.”  
  
“Hold on,” Dan says. As Brian walks, he hears Dan’s heavy footfalls jogging to catch up. “You do plenty of work! You run our whole social media thing here. You know how bad we needed that?”  
  
“We.” Brian shoulders open the door, and he shouldn’t be so gratified when Danny stays on his heels instead of watching him leave.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Who is ‘we?’”  
  
“Me and Arin,” Dan says. His words sound clunky, like he’s confused, and Brian works to push down the swell of sympathy inside of him. “And Ross, I guess, and Barry, and Suzy-”  
  
Brian whips around, the sun shining on his face, the drone of cars passing on the road drowning both of them out. “I remember something, Dan.”  
  
Danny leans in. “What’s that?”  
  
“I remember when you and me used to be a ‘we.’” Brian lifts his eyebrows. “When we were the only ‘we’ that mattered. You remember that?”  
  
Dan gapes at him like a fish, mouth opening and closing. He looks more stunned than he should, and Brian wonders what Dan is hearing in his words. “B-Brian, c’mon, man-”  
  
“Of course I understand that priorities change,” Brian goes on. “And Arin, I’ll admit he’s incredible, but...listen.” Brian steps even closer so he can drop his voice – so he can catch the smell of Dan’s shampoo. “If you’re not into the idea of NSP anymore, just say it. All right?”  
  
“I would never say that!” Danny’s voice cracks. “Are you high right now? Jesus, dude!”  
  
“What am I supposed to think?” Brian asks. “When was the last time we wrote anything? Even when I was in England?”  
  
“I’m busy,” Dan repeats.  
  
“Busy. You’re always busy.” Brian waves toward the building. “You’re pulling overtime work with Arin, you’re talking about doing a collab with Suzy on her channel, you’re planning con appearances-”  
  
“Yeah!” The first spark of frustration fills Danny’s tone and his gaze, and Brian takes it for the slap in the face that it is. It’s what he deserves. “Yeah, Brian, I am! Because I actually get paid for that shit!”  
  
“It used to be that you couldn’t leave NSP alone,” Brian snaps. “That you wanted to get paid with that-”  
  
“And it never took off, did it? Because you were...” Dan cuts himself off, his mouth in a thin line.  
  
“No, say it, Dan,” Brian snips. “C’mon, tell me how you really feel.”  
  
Danny’s eyes smolder as he tenses his jaw, but the words come out like barbs when he finally sucks in a breath. “You’re the one that went across the goddamn ocean, Brian. Don’t fucking forget that.”  
  
“I had to support myself-”  
  
“And now I have to support me too.”  
  
They stand chest to chest, the wind whipping around them, glaring daggers into each other. For once, there’s something insurmountable between them – the bridge stretching between them feels too wide to cross, and even as Brian’s heart breaks in his chest he wonders if this is what he needs: maybe it’s time to just fucking let it go. Maybe that’s the only way to move on.  
  
But, just like every other time they’ve been at each other’s throats, Dan softens first. He breathes deep and exhales the tension out of his shoulders. “I have to pay my bills,” Danny says softly. “We’re growing, man. Grumps is taking off. That’s the whole reason we wanted to bring you in. Because there’s, like, what’s it called when it just, when it starts going up and up and up and doesn’t stop-”  
  
“A singularity,” Brian says dully.  
  
“Yeah.” Dan smiles weakly. “We’re hitting that. And that means we need the best people here to make it happen. That’s why you’re here with us.”  
  
Brian looks away, and he studies how the sun reflects off of the windshield of a car. “...and that means you don’t have time for NSP.”  
  
“No.” Dan reaches out, but he stops himself at the last second and gestures through the air instead. “No, Bri, we’re setting up for success, okay? We’re getting the time-sensitive shit taken care of. And you know what happens after we’re done doing that?”  
  
“More time-sensitive shit gets scheduled?” Brian asks dryly.  
  
Dan laughs. “No, dude. Then you and me hit it big. And we do that tour like we always fucking said we would.”  
  
Brian remembers it – lounging in Dan’s filthy apartment, Brian nursing a beer and trying to pretend he wasn’t undressing Dan with his eyes, Dan mouthing at a pen to satisfy the oral fixation that years of weed smoking left him with, both of them discussing the kind of bus they’d get their hands on for their inevitably successful NSP tour. And just like that, he feels his guard slipping away. That’s all it takes to forget the tightness in his chest: one memory of being happy with Dan.  
  
But Dan watches him anyway, leaning down to catch his eyes, and Brian immediately flicks them away again. “You’re mad about something else,” Danny says.  
  
“I am not.”  
  
“Do I need to call in a third party?” Danny asks with a grin. “A fucking, an emissary, is that what they’re called? Maybe a therapist?”  
  
“A marriage counselor,” Brian fires back, seizing on the joke before he can be fooled into thinking he can open up to Dan and not be the bad guy when it’s all over.  
  
“I can call a marriage counselor, sure How long have we been together now, like sixty years? Think they’d give us a discount for that?”  
  
“For longevity?” Brian teases.  
  
Danny laughs. “I don’t know.”  
  
“We all know therapy’s a crock of shit,” Brian tosses back as he walks past Danny, pausing for him to catch up before he continues. “I’ll just get religion instead.”  
  
“Bam!” Danny claps his hands together. “Problem solved!”  
  
“Will you throw me a bar mitzvah if I convert?”  
  
“Okay, I know you kidding, but I’d pay all my fucking life savings to see you in a yarmulke.”  
  
Before they can walk back into the office proper, though, Dan grabs Brian’s wrist. “Seriously,” Dan murmurs, soft enough to send goosebumps all over Brian’s arms. “You’re...you’re not mad about anything else, are you?”  
  
Brian considers. He could be honest. He could look Danny in the eye and say _”Dan, the thing is that I miss you a lot. And one hangout since I got back from England isn’t enough to stop missing you. And I’m pretty damn sure that unless I get to come home to you every night, I’m always going to miss you. So I’m having to do some pretty heavy soul searching to figure out exactly how that’s gonna fucking play out, and it’s just not looking good for either of us.”_  
  
But Danny is the straightest man he knows, and the amount of honest, emotional, genuine conversation about feelings they’ve had only extended to the rare times they’d indulge in alcohol together. So he doesn’t. Instead he says “You took my parking spot today and I’m suing you.”  
  
And Dan laughs and they go back to ribbing at each other and Brian decides to forget how his heart swells every single time he hears that laugh, no matter what or how long it takes.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
That evening, Brian decides to have a very therapeutic conversation with the strangest thing he’s ever created.  
  
“I have a problem,” he says. “I’m in love with my best friend, Daniel Sexbang.”  
  
The sofa pillow poorly wearing Brian’s ninja mask with two googly eyes in the eyeholes stares at him, silent but attentive.  
  
Brian begins pacing in front of it, hands tented in front of his mouth. “It’s, okay, the love isn’t even the real issue here. You understand that. I know you’ve been in love before, I mean, who on this planet hasn’t loved somebody before – a parent, a child, a lover, am I right?”  
  
Ninja Pillow stares back serenely.  
  
“The issue, however, is that Danny...is unlikely to love me back like that.”  
  
One of the googly eyes falls and makes a soft sound on the couch.  
  
“Hey, shh, don’t cry,” Brian says as he picks up the eye and puts it back in place. “No, listen, it’s okay, I knew this was gonna happen the day I started feeling it. I trained for this. I’ve handled it for a good few years. But I didn’t exactly realize just how much it was going to fuck with my day to day life.”  
  
Ninja Pillow doesn’t reply.  
  
“You’re such a good listener, fuck me,” Brian breathes as he goes back to pacing. “I know, I know, it’d be easier if you just told me what to do or whatever, but I’ve gotta talk it out. I can’t expect someone to tell me how to go about it. Not when it’s my life.”  
  
He imagines Ninja Pillow is probably nodding at that behind his back.  
  
“So here’s what I know: I’ve come to a fork in the road. I have two ways I can go. Either I go on like I always have – pushing through those little moments and gritting my teeth when it gets too hard – or I don’t. I stop. I hold him at arm’s length. And I only do what I can handle.”  
  
Ninja Pillow starts to sag to the side.  
  
“I know what you’re thinking,” Brian says, pointing at it. “Isn’t that why I went to England? Yeah, well, it wasn’t enough. I kept having Skype calls with him. I kept a picture of us on my desk at work. Every time I played my goddamn keyboard I imagined he was there with me. Real fucking gay, right?”  
  
Ninja Pillow doesn’t reply.  
  
“I mean, I am, it’s okay.”  
  
The silence remains.  
  
Brian sighs and sits on the edge of the couch, reaching to pet Ninja Pillow’s head – it’s soft and soothing. “It didn’t work. That’s all that matters. As much as I thought that love was only temporary and location based, I was wrong. So now I’m here, and we’re working together, and it’s worse than ever. So I just...I have to stop fantasizing. I have to stop spending so much idle time around him. And, over time, it’ll fade. And that’s that. Am I right?”  
  
Ninja Pillow is strong and stoic for him.  
  
Brian plucks up Ninja Pillow and hugs it to his chest, even as its eyes scatter on the floor. “I can do it,” he murmurs, burying his face in it. “I can move on. I can forget. And then I never have to hurt over it again.”  
  
The couch springs squeak as Brian shifts.  
  
“Nobody asked you, Sofa Sexbang.”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
Phase 1 of the plan goes into motion easier than Brian thinks it should.  
  
It starts with Arin, because if he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it big – by starting with the person he’s most jealous of.  
  
“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Brian begins, touching his hands down on Arin’s chair arms.  
  
“Holy shit.” Arin flings his headphones off and sends his Cintiq pen flying across the desk. “Oh my God, Brian, you scared the fucking shit out of me.”  
  
“Good!” Brian pats his shoulder and squeezes it. “Keep you on your toes. So, hey.”  
  
“Hey,” Arin says, laughing as he turns to face him. “Fancy seeing you here.”  
  
“Same, come here often?”  
  
“I live here, man.”  
  
“And yet,” Brian says as he perches right in Arin’s lap, just to make him laugh – and it has nothing to do with wanting Danny to watch, of course – while he continues speaking. “And _yet,_ Arin, you haven’t had me record a single Grump episode yet.”  
  
Arin blinks a few times, then settles his hands safely on the armrests instead of anywhere near Brian’s person. “I mean, not for lack of trying, just, there’s been a lot going on.”  
  
“Trust me, I’m aware.” Brian quirks a brow as he looks down at Arin. “So. You up for it?”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“For recording.” Brian rolls his eyes. “God, where’s your mind at?”  
  
“Somewhere around the area of your ass and my crotch?” Arin offers with another laugh.  
  
“Oh my God,” Suzy mumbles from across the room, only making her husband laugh harder.  
  
“Fair point.” Brian glances toward Danny before he can remind himself that, no, he’s not doing that, not anymore. “You know, I happen to have a game in mind.”  
  
“Oh, do you?” Arin asks in a low, mock flirtatious voice.  
  
Danny calls from across the room, making Brian stiffen. “Let me guess, is it Burger Time?’  
  
“Don’t expose my deepest secrets like this, Dan,” Brian says, keeping his voice as even as he can. No one has to know how his heart is skipping a beat. “I told you about my favorite game under a blood oath. You owe me your left nut now.”  
  
“Burger Time,” Arin interrupts loudly. “I, yeah, we’ve got that one, actually, we could do that today, if you wanted.”  
  
“Perfect.” Brian comes to his feet. “So just you and me and a recording booth. Kinky.”  
  
“Well, you, me, and Dan, right?”  
  
It’s only by the grace of God that Brian doesn’t move a single muscle in his face. “Do what?”  
  
“Well, c’mon, man,” Arin says. “We’ve played you and Dan up for years now. Your friendship, your band, the whole angle of you being some creepy silent guy in the room while we filmed. You really want your first official Grump video to be you and me and no Dan?”  
  
Brian becomes aware that he’s being watched. Not by Suzy or Ross or Barry – no, all three of them are hard at work at their desks, their headphones on and their mouses busy. No, it’s the eyes right behind him and across the room, painfully attentive behind a pair of thick-framed glasses. Brian swallows. “Dan’s always busy. He’s got a lot going on. He’s in most of the videos with you and-”  
  
“Dude, I’d love it,” Danny says, but the bright bubbly words are just a little too flat around the edges – obviously fake and too shiny to be real. “I can always make time for that.”  
  
_Abort, abort._ Brian clears his throat. “Actually-”  
  
“Y’know, I need to get away from the computer for a while anyway.” Arin stands up. “What do you think, Dan, you up for filming right now?”  
  
“Yeah, why not?” Dan hops up.  
  
“Oh,” Brian says faintly. As he watches Arin and Danny head for the recording studio, he takes a long moment to try and figure out how the fuck his plan just blew up in his face.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
Phase 2 starts better, Brian thinks. He has a few more weeks to think of how to improve his approach, and he implements it when they all go out to lunch together.  
  
There’s a six-person booth, and as they start taking their seats, Brian waits for Barry and Ross to squeeze into one of the sides together before he practically dives for the outside seat. Flawless. There’s no way for him to end up next to Danny – smelling his hair, feeling the tickle of his jacket on his bare arm, aching at the warmth of their thighs pressed together.  
  
Arin and Suzy clamber into the other side of the booth, finishing up their discussion with Barry across the table as Ross pulls out his 3DS to check for streetpasses, and Brian studies the menu intently while trying to pretend he isn’t thinking constantly of Danny who’d stopped off at the bathroom.  
  
Of course, Brian senses the second Danny starts crossing the restaurant, and his eyes flash upward so he can take him in. It isn’t that Danny moves with any particular grace of motion. He’s tall. He’s gangly. He wears size 300 shoes. But he has a presence. He fills the room and draws eyes in a way that he didn’t used to when Brian first met him, and Brian supposes he owes that to Arin, in a way, bringing up Dan’s confidence in his comedy and himself so much that he resonates light in a way he never did before.  
  
And Dan has the time to meet Brian’s gaze and flash him a smile before Brian remembers that no, he’s, he’s overcoming this. He’s forgetting it and he’s never feeling it again. So Brian looks back down at his menu, frowning, and pretends he’s reading the words.  
  
“’Scuse me!” And just as suddenly, Dan is shoving his way into the booth right beside Brian and starting a domino chain reaction.  
  
“Wh-” As Brian gets shoved over by one solid bump of Danny’s bony hips, he tumbles into Barry, and Ross falls clear out of the other side with a loud shout.  
  
“Dude!” Ross shouts, his voice cracking. “You almost broke my 3DS!”  
  
“Fuck you,” Dan calls back, then seems to notice the people looking at them from the surrounding tables and bursting into giggles. “I’m so sorry, Ross, are you dead?”  
  
“No!” Ross gets up, brushing himself off, and sulks as he drops into the seat next to Suzy instead. “Ass.”  
  
“Can you blame me?” Danny stretches his arms into the air with a loud grunt, then, much to Brian’s horror, drops his arm onto the back of the booth, right where his jacket can tickle the back of Brian’s neck. “Gotta be next to my main man here, bro. We’ve gotta talk shop.”  
  
“We do?” Brian asks as stoically as he can.  
  
“Oh, we do, baby,” Danny murmurs with a dangerous little grin. “I’ve got an idea for a song.”  
  
Brian swallows hard. “Do you?”  
  
“I do!” Dan leans over, dropping his voice so he can whisper near Brian’s ear. “So, since we’ve already done 6969, how do you feel about Danny Sexbang and Ninja Brian going back in time and accidentally inventing sex?”  
  
_”Say that you’re mine, Brian.”_ He can practically feel Danny crushing him into his bedspread. He turns his head just enough that Dan’s lips brush the sensitive shell of his ear, and Brian tightens a fist around the edge of the table. “They invent it together, you say?”  
  
Danny laughs. “I-I mean, it doesn’t have to be _together,_ but...”  
  
Brian turns his head further, forcing Danny to lean back an inch or two lest their lips meet, and his entire body tingles. “Don’t be shy, Dan,” Brian murmurs back. “I’m sure Ninja Brian could be gentle, if Danny Sexbang asked.”  
  
Danny’s eyebrows furrow, and he studies Brian’s face for a long moment before he chuckles. “The word ‘gentle’ isn’t in Ninja Brian’s vocabulary, and you and me both know it.”  
  
“Well.” Brian shifts his leg against his better judgment until it presses warm against Dan’s thigh. “Anything for Danny Sexbang.”  
  
Dan doesn’t look away.  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
Brian flicks his eyes away.  
  
There’s a man standing at the end of the table, dressed nicely in an identical uniform to the other servers around him, smiling. “Hey, sorry, can I get your drink order?”  
  
“Water,” Brian says as he drags his eyes back down to the menu.  
  
“Yeah, can I get a Pepsi?” Dan asks brightly. “Thanks, man.”  
  
Brian stares at the menu even still. As Arin calls Danny’s attention away and starts questioning him about his shooting availability for the rest of the day, Brian realizes with a heavy heart that Dan’s arm never moves from around him.  
  
He’s fucked. He’s so fucked.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
“Dude!”  
  
Brian looks over at Barry and Danny’s car after lunch, where Danny is leaning out of the back seat as if he and Barry weren’t the only ones who’d taken the car here when they’d carpooled from the studio. Brian already has the door open in the back of Suzy’s car. Ross is looking up expectantly from the back seat.  
  
Brian hates himself when he opens his mouth. “Yeah, what’s up?”  
  
Dan grins. “Hey, come ride with us, man!”  
  
_Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me._ Brian stares at him hard. “Why do I feel like this is a kidnapping waiting to happen?”  
  
Danny laughs and ducks back through his open window. “Just c’mere.”  
  
He knows better. He made a promise to himself that he was going to stop this shit. And he can still feel Dan’s mouth on his ear.  
  
In the end, he doesn’t even make an excuse. He just climbs into the car beside Ross and shuts the door.  
  
There’s dead silence in the car before Suzy begins driving off.  
  
“You mad at him or something?” Ross asks.  
  
Feeling eyes on him from the front seat mirrors, Brian simply says the first thing on his mind. “Ross, I’m here to propose to you, and I hope that you-”  
  
“Just ask Holly, man,” Ross says as he opens his 3DS once more. “I don’t even care.”  
  
Done. Problem solved. Brian sinks back into the seat and tips his head back and exhales long and hard, trying to pretend he doesn’t feel Arin still watching him closely.  
  
It’s a quiet ride back. Brian can zone out as the radio softly plays some of Suzy’s favorite music, as Ross quietly swears every time he fucks something up in his game, as Arin’s nails click quietly on his screen as he texts. He can work on centering himself. Mindfulness. Meditation.  
  
He can feel Danny kiss his ear, and he can let it flow out into the air. He can think of how his heart even still wants to burst in his chest, and he can release it like a breath. He can hear Danny’s low voice as he called Brian ‘baby,’ and he can open his hands like he’s letting go of a butterfly.  
  
He doesn’t have to consciously love Dan. But he doesn’t have to punish his subconscious either.  
  
It’s an inspiring ten minutes in his own mind before he feels the car stop and turn off and opens his eyes again. He’s an adult. He’s fucking centered as shit. He’s more grounded than a goddamn mountain.  
  
And then he climbs out of the car and walks as quickly as he can into the office before Barry can even pull into the parking lot, because no matter how centered he is, he isn’t stupid.  
  
His foot hits Grump carpet before he’s interrupted. “Hey, hey,” Arin’s saying behind him, and Brian turns his head but doesn’t stop. “I need to talk to you, man.”  
  
Fuck, _fuck._ “Can it wait?” Brian asks.  
  
“Uh, no, not really,” Arin says. He’s not relaxed. He’s in businessman mode. He may be young, but he’s still the owner of a million dollar company at this point, and Brian bites back a swear. “Let’s talk in the kitchen.”  
  
Brian uses every bit of his old manners that his mother taught him to let Arin walk ahead of him before he follows, trying to figure out the current status of his job. As far as he knows, Arin’s never fired anybody from Grumps before, but hell, there’s always a first time, isn’t there?  
  
As Arin guides him into the kitchen, Brian tries not to focus on how Suzy and Ross walk by, Suzy avoiding their eyes and Ross watching extremely curiously as he meanders. Brian leans back against one of the counters and makes himself hold Arin’s gaze like an adult.  
  
Arin stares in silence, and when nothing is forthcoming he opens the conversation. “Is there anything you need to talk about, Brian?”  
  
“I don’t know what you mean,” Brian says, his tone even and seamless. “I mean, there’s childhood poverty and institutionalized racism in the world, but as far as things I can actually fix-”  
  
“Brian,” Arin says softly, cutting him to the quick. “C’mon.”  
  
Brian doesn’t reply. He crosses his arms over his chest and waits.  
  
Arin sighs. “All right, sure, I’ll lead off.” He fidgets, playing with one of his belt loops as he talks. “You’ve been acting a little weird lately.”  
  
“Oh, have I,” Brian asks tonelessly.  
  
“Don’t be a dick,” Arin snaps, and Brian goes quiet. “I’m talking to you because I wanna know if something’s wrong, and you’re clearly not gonna be the guy to say something about it.”  
  
Brian can’t hold his eyes anymore. He looks at the wall.  
  
“I moved you down here for a reason,” Arin says quietly. “I respect you. I always have. I think you’re incredible. And if you’re unhappy about something purely because you’re here, then I need to know about it so I can fix it. So what’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing’s wrong,” Brian says. “I’m doing a lot of thought experiments recently, that’s all. It’s kept me up at night. I’ve just been tired.”  
  
Arin waits, then fills the silence. “Gonna make me get into more specifics, huh?”  
  
Brian tightens his jaw.  
  
“So I’ve happened to notice that you treat Dan a certain kind of way recently.”  
  
“Oh, do I,” Brian drones.  
  
“Yeah, you treat him like shit.”  
  
Brian flinches at the swear.  
  
“And that kind of baffles me,” Arin goes on, “because Danny’s a clueless ass sometimes, but he’s never an intentional ass, and I feel like you’ve known him long enough to understand that.”  
  
_Don’t look at him,_ Brian thinks even as his knuckles turn white where he’s clenching his hands into fists.  
  
“And Dan’s kind of my best friend, and kind of my most important business partner right now. So here’s the thing: if you’ve got a problem with Dan, I’m gonna need you to fix it.”  
  
“An ultimatum?” Brian asks quietly. He’s burned the bridges in England. Going back would be almost impossible now.  
  
“If it has to be, then yeah,” Arin says. He comes forward a step or two and Brian fights not to jerk away. “Or we could just talk about this like adults, and nobody has to leave anything.”  
  
God, but his mouth wants to just fall open and start spilling out a river. Brian locks his jaw and starts tapping his foot on the ground.  
  
Arin forces a quiet laugh. “I mean, call me crazy, but I sort of thought you liked Dan.”  
  
The lock gets struck cleanly, like with a crowbar, and his jaw falls open. “You have no fucking idea what I think about Dan,” Brian snaps.  
  
Arin stares at him in stunned silence before he stammers and moves forward again. “I-I mean, apparently not, no, not if you’re going out of your way to avoid him and avoid recording with him and-”  
  
“You don’t have a fucking clue.” Brian breathes harder as he looks at the wall, his muscles clenched and his heart racing and his bones wanting to splinter right down to the marrow. “You come in here trying to be all sympathetic and shit like you’ve got a damn idea what’s going on, and all you’re doing is embarrassing yourself.”  
  
“Dude, chill,” Arin says. He reaches out, but his hands hover over Brian’s arms when he sees Brian flinch rather than touching down. “Did he piss you off? Is something wrong?”  
  
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Brian says, staring at the floor and trying not to shake.  
  
“’Cuz if he pissed you off, we can do something about it. We can sit down and talk, all three of us, and just talk it out and get this show back on the road.”  
  
“Arin,” Brian snaps warningly.  
  
Arin pushes on. “’Cuz I don’t see a reason why a friendship and a partnership like yours should have to end, okay, I really don’t, not if it’s something you can just talk through-”  
  
“Right!” Brian barks a laugh. “Right, Arin, let me just fucking waltz right up to Danny and say ‘Hey, guess what, buddy! Turns out I’ve been in love with you for fucking years now! How do you like them apples, huh? You wanna get married? Have a house with a white picket fence and some dicks drawn on the roof? Oh, wait, that’s right! You’re fucking straight! What a goddamn laugh!’”  
  
“What?”  
  
Brian whips his head up and locks eyes with the love of his life, only a few inches behind Arin in the open doorway, and feels his entire future shatter into pieces.  
  
Even here, even with the panic burning through Brian’s veins, he can’t help but drink Danny in. There are the eyes that make Brian feel like he’s the only man in the room. There’s the hair that Brian has had any number of fantasies about pulling until Danny gasps out his name. There’s the rough stubble that Brian’s dreamed of shaving away himself while Dan quietly talks about their plans for the day together. And there’s a pink on his cheeks that Brian so rarely sees, that he categorizes as a success every time it appears because it means Danny is as shy and sheepish as hell.  
  
_This’ll be the last time I see it,_ Brian thinks faintly.  
  
“Dan,” Arin says, voice high-pitched and nervous and not at all deceptive enough.  
  
Danny doesn’t reply, and that’s bad news for Brian. Brian swallows hard and schools his expression and says “Monologuing.”  
  
Dan wrinkles his brow. “What?”  
  
“I was monologuing,” Brian says as he feels to make sure his car keys are in one pocket, that his phone’s in the other. “For a future Grump episode. Probably would’ve been funnier if the first time you’d heard it was during the recording.”  
  
Danny stares at him hard, his forehead crinkled and his mouth frowning.  
  
“Just, just a funny fucking joke,” Brian manages before his fight-or-flight instincts kick in. And he chooses flight. He pushes past Arin and Dan both, and even when Dan calls his name Brian keeps walking. He doesn’t realize he’s hit a jog until he’s in the office hallway and considering diving out the fucking window if it’ll get him out faster.  
  
“Brian!”  
  
Dan’s still behind him. Brian ducks his head and shoves out the front door and lets his legs carry him all the way to his own car. He fumbles with the keys, swearing sharply under his breath, and only when he’s safe inside and turning it on does he look back.  
  
Dan’s standing there in the office door, his face as open as a flower, and Brian takes one last lingering look. And it’s when Dan takes a single step forward that Brian peels out of the parking lot before he can face his entire life burning to the ground.  
  
His mind shuts off completely while he’s driving. His sweaty palms are slick on the steering wheel, and he fumbles a turn or two before he finally wipes them on his jeans at a stop sign.  
  
He runs at least one red light, he knows that much, and it’s a blessing that no cop comes after him, since Brian isn’t sure he wants his dead parents to get a front row showing in heaven of Brian leading the slowest high-speed chase all the way back to his apartment. Because he’s not stopping. He’s not. If he stops, everything will catch up. His heart’s hidden right behind a gate that’s already straining to stay shut, and it’s only the adrenaline keeping him from vomiting.  
  
Brian pulls into his apartment complex and climbs out of the car before he realizes it’s still running, that he doesn’t have his keys. “Fuck,” he whispers, “ _fuck,_ ” and finally manages to get the car turned off, get the goddamn keys, and get himself into his apartment.  
  
He makes the mistake of stopping to take his shoes off, and it catches him.  
  
Brian’s body wracks all over with shaking, and he comes down onto his knees before he can pass out. The carpet feels itchy between his fingers, and he tries to grab fistfuls of it, desperate to keep himself tethered to reality in any way he can. His vision blurs, but he blinks frantically, determined to keep any tears at bay. He hasn’t cried since...since his mother…  
  
He’s not doing it today.  
  
His body seems to make him a deal: either he lets the ache out through his eyes or through his mouth. He squeezes his eyes shut, gasping, not letting a single sob emerge, and that’s when he feels the churning in his stomach. He crawls like a baby all the way to his bathroom and doesn’t even get the seat up before he’s greeting his lunch for the second time that day.  
  
After, he clings to the toilet bowl, his body covered in a cold sweat, his arms shaking. He eases back and sits against the wall and rubs his face with a low groan. “It’s over,” he murmurs, and though he means the vomiting, his chest clenches around his heart and he finds himself letting out a gasped sob anyway. “It’s over, it’s fucking over.”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
As Brian sits against the bathroom wall and stares into space, he makes a list in his head.  
  
One, he needs to get the fuck out of Glendale. He doesn’t care where he goes at this point. Nowhere is far away enough. Maybe Japan will be looking for a theoretical physicist who didn’t give nearly enough notice before he left his teaching position. Maybe they’ll accept him as their own and keep him busy enough that he never has to think again.  
  
Two, he needs a lobotomy. Doing everything the old fashioned way didn’t work. His brain has been fucked up with thoughts and fantasies about Danny for years, and it’s clear that he’s too weak to overcome that all on his own. And if he can’t get a legal, normal lobotomy, he’ll happily pay any guy with an icepick to do it in a quiet motel room instead.  
  
Three, he needs to burn everything related to Danny. The Ninja Brian costume doesn’t need to exist anymore, and keeping even a scrap of it will leave Brian with individual cells of Dan that can still plague him. Because Brian has a very scientific theory now, okay, and that’s that Danny’s body is out to drive Brian into an early grave. If there’s a single Danny hair or dead skin cell on anything that Brian owns, somehow they’ll just get into his fucking head and make him fantasize about them adopting their first child together and discussing what to get her for her first Christmas so that she knows her dads love her more than life itself.  
  
It’s a very good list. It’s probably the best list Brian’s ever made. And now the only thing to do is actually make it happen.  
  
It’s a goddamn shame that his legs don’t even work right now.  
  
So Brian sits. He feels the numbness come in waves and try to drown him, and fuck, maybe he’ll let it. Maybe if it overtakes him, it’ll be easier to handle the process of getting boxes and packing his important shit. He thinks Arin will understand if Brian doesn’t give a two week notice.  
  
His pocket starts dancing, and Brian takes a moment to realize that it’s actually his phone ringing rather than his jubilant pants deciding that now is the time to demonstrate their livelihood. He reaches. He stares.  
  
It’s Arin. Apparently the universe has seen fit for Brian to give Arin a two week notice after all.  
  
Brian answers. “Yeah.”  
  
“Hey, are you okay?” Arin asks.  
  
Brian considers the unflushed toilet full of vomit and the fact that his legs refuse to respond. “Yeah.”  
  
Arin exhales sharply. “Okay, where are you, dude?”  
  
“My bathroom.”  
  
“In your apartment?”  
  
Brian rechecks his surroundings. “Yeah, looks like it.”  
  
“Oh my God,” Arin whines. “Suzy’s been out of her mind, Brian, you can’t just take off like that.”  
  
“I’m a grown man, Arin,” Brian says far more patiently than he expected to be. Maybe the numbness is good for something after all. “And anyone with a brain would know to look for someone at their apartment first.”  
  
“We’ve been worried about you,” Arin says. “Dan was in here talking for the past hour, and he says-”  
  
“I don’t wanna hear it,” Brian interrupts, feeling the burn of acid in his throat again.  
  
“Bri-”  
  
“Not a fucking word, Arin.” There’s literally nothing else in his stomach for him to throw up. He can’t even imagine why his body is even trying. “I mean it.”  
  
Arin groans in frustration, and there’s the dull sound of something slamming on the other side of the line. “Can I say one thing?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“I’m not gonna tell you the whole conversation, you just-”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Because it’s very-”  
  
“ _No,_ Arin, goddammit, I just said I don’t wanna hear.” Brian shuffles forward on his knees toward the toilet. Just in case.  
  
“Nothing is fucked, Brian.”  
  
Brian hesitates. He leans back against the lip of the bathtub instead. “Excuse me?”  
  
“Nothing is fucked,” Arin repeats. “I wouldn’t tell you anything Danny said anyway, like, hello, privacy, but...but nothing is fucked. You have to know that.”  
  
Brian squeezes his eyes shut. He feels the moisture in his eyes again, and he refuses to even entertain the thought of it. “Of course it’s fucked,” he murmurs. “I declared my love for my heterosexual best friend and he overheard it. It’s over, Arin. By the way, I’m quitting.”  
  
“You’re not fucking quitting,” Arin presses. “Like, I’ll give you a week off to reassess, if you need, but you don’t need to just up and quit.”  
  
“Too late,” Brian says. “I’ve found a really good deal on a dumpster. Think I’m just gonna drag my pillow there and live out the rest of my days.”  
  
“Brian.”  
  
There’s something in Arin’s voice that makes Brian listen more intently than he’s ever listened to anything in his life.  
  
“Nothing is fucked,” he says one last time. “Just breathe, okay, dude? Nothing’s over.”  
  
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Brian says softly. “But your optimism is absolutely adorable.”  
  
There’s a knock on the door before Brian can even finish his sentence, and he sits there for a long moment before he realizes it’s on his end, not Arin’s. “Just get some water,” Arin’s saying. “Don’t drink any booze tonight. I’m serious. Not even a beer.”  
  
“My real dad’s dead, Arin,” Brian says as he pushes himself to his feet. “But nice try.”  
  
“I’ll come over there and pour out every damn drop of alcohol you have in that house. Don’t make me do it.”  
  
“I’ll fucking murder you and stage a hostile Grump takeover. You know I will,” Brian says as he makes his way carefully through the apartment, a hand on a wall or a near piece of furniture to steady his shaky legs.  
  
Arin chuckles. “I don’t think Suzy would appreciate that.”  
  
“Under Grump law, if I defeat the Grump, I inherit the Suze.” Brian fumbles for the doorknob.  
  
“Yeah, good fucking luck. Vengeance is hers, man.”  
  
“Sure,” Brian says faintly just as he opens the door and gets blindsided by the sight of Danny for the second time that day. “Oh.”  
  
“Hey,” Dan says. He has a hand on either side of the doorframe, like he’s afraid that Brian’s gonna make a break for it.  
  
_Silly Dan,_ Brian thinks distantly, _the balcony’s still wide fucking open._  
  
Dan leans forward an inch or two, and Brian flinches back a step. “Can we talk? Maybe?”  
  
Brian opens and closes his mouth, like a fish, then clears his throat. “I have a visitor, Arin. I’m going to have to call you back.”  
  
“Okay,” Arin is saying even as Brian takes the phone away from his ear. “Just remember, nothing is-” Brian ends the call.  
  
With the phone in his pocket and Danny blocking the door, Brian’s not actually sure how to guide the proceedings from here on. It doesn’t seem like a terrible idea to stand here and scientifically dismantle whether he’s hallucinating or not, so he works at it, trying to take things in about Dan’s appearance that would absolutely prove his realness without Brian having to touch him.  
  
Danny clears his throat after a few seconds. “Can I come in?”  
  
_Oh, right._ Brian steps back and crosses his arms over his chest, looking resignedly at the couch, and Dan shuts and locks the door behind him before he wanders over. He starts shrugging off his jacket, and Brian instinctively takes it from him. Their hands meet for a moment and they both linger before Brian realizes he isn’t breathing and quickly moves to his coat closet.  
  
Okay. Danny is here. He’s in Brian’s apartment. Where there is still a toilet full of vomit. Brian immediately makes a bee line for the bathroom and flushes the toilet, pausing to rinse his mouth out with an abandoned empty glass, and then returns to the living room.  
  
Inexplicably Danny is actually _still_ there. He’s even removed his shoes, as if he plans on staying for a while. Brian wonders if maybe he hallucinated the earlier parts of the day instead, if maybe he and Dan had a hangout scheduled and Dan’s getting ready to pull up Netflix and pick a shitty movie for them to riff over.  
  
“Y’know,” Danny says, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you run before. It was kind of terrifying.”  
  
No, okay, it did happen, then. Brian approaches the couch, then reconsiders and sits down hard on the floor, keeping as much distance between them as possible. “Well,” he manages. “If you ever see me running in the future, it’s a good indication that you too should run. You have no idea what’s chasing me.”  
  
Danny laughs appreciatively, but they both go quiet again too quickly. They sit. They wait.  
  
Brian’s actually not sure what they’re waiting on, and at this point he’s too afraid to ask.  
  
“So here’s the thing,” Danny finally says, and Brian meets his gaze. “You’re actually, like, a really good liar. An _excellent_ liar. It’s kind of scary how good you are at it.”  
  
“Like most things,” Brian states – if he maintains a baseline of humor, maybe he can get out of this final encounter intact.  
  
“But.” Danny puts his hands together and studies them, from base to finger. “But. I’m pretty sure what you said today was the worst lie you’ve ever told.”  
  
Brian seizes on the out. “You’ve caught me,” he says. “You’re right. The whole thing about the, the, God, I can’t even say it-”  
  
“The love?”  
  
Brian jerks his head down and stares at the floor. “Right. No, yeah, that was the shittiest lie I’ve ever told. Everybody knows I can, like, I can barely stand you, I mean-”  
  
“Oh, really,” Dan says in a perfectly even tone that he absolutely picked up from Brian, the fucker.  
  
“Yeah.” Brian shrugs. “Facts are facts. I’m using you for money and fame and power and I think it’s time for me to admit that I hate you and that I’m leaving the country again, and that’s that.”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“Please request that all of our albums be removed from Spotify, and I will do the service of deleting our YouTube channel.”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
The words are so calm and unremarkable that Brian doesn’t actually believe that he heard them right. He looks up and blinks. “What?”  
  
“Shut up,” Dan says with another nervous tinkle of a laugh, shaking his head. “God, do you hear yourself? What happened to you, Brian? Those are the worst lies I’ve ever heard. Just like when you lied today, about it all being a big monologue.”  
  
Brian swallows hard. He feels like a sitting duck right here in his living room, so he comes to his feet. Maybe he can escape it before Danny crushes his heart. Maybe-  
  
“Will you come sit with me, Brian?”  
  
He squeezes his eyes shut. Shit. He can’t remember the last time he was able to sincerely deny Danny anything. So his legs, which curiously refused to work earlier, draw him across the room before he can even tell them to, and suddenly he’s sitting on his couch with only a cushion of distance between them.  
  
Dan turns and draws his legs up to his chest, his back pressed against the couch arm. “I want you to do me a favor,” he says softly.  
  
“And what’s that?” Brian asks, trying not to sound choked.  
  
“I want you to tell me exactly how you feel about me. In your own words. And I don’t want you to leave anything out.”  
  
Brian barks a laugh and rubs his face. “Oh, fuck, Dan.”  
  
“Just do it,” Danny says. “I bet you can’t.”  
  
He fucking hates how susceptible he is to Danny’s bets. Even now he feels himself ripping his chest open and offering his still-beating heart to Dan. “Fuck you.”  
  
“Sure.” Danny laughs. “Come on. Tell me.”  
  
And as painful as it is to start pulling his ribs open one by one, Brian begins the process. He leans forward, tenting his hands, and pins Dan with his eyes. “If I do this, you have to promise me something.”  
  
Dan tilts his head to the side. “What’s that?”  
  
“You don’t make this into a joke.” He holds Danny’s eyes stoically and doesn’t even let himself blink. “None of this is up for discussion in a video or on stage. None of this is for a comedy routine. You can tell Arin or Barry or any of the Grumps, but they don’t repeat it to another soul.”  
  
“Dude.” Danny frowns. “You know me, c’mon.”  
  
“I do,” Brian says. “And that means I also don’t want you humoring anything I say.”  
  
“Bri-”  
  
“Not a fucking bit of it,” he stresses. “I don’t want you placating me and I don’t want you treating me any different than you already do. We’re best friends. We write music together. We perform together. I’m not suddenly some guy that’s interested in you that you have to dance around. I’m a grown man. I can handle this on my own. Do you understand?”  
  
Danny sighs, his face open enough that Brian can see the sympathy right on the surface. “Brian.”  
  
“I’m serious. That.” Brian points at his face. “That thing you’re doing with your face, I don’t want any of that. I just want...us to stay the same. Can you promise me that?”  
  
Dan shuts his eyes and sighs, letting out every bit of the air in his lungs before he nods. “Yeah. Okay, Brian. No different treatment, got it.”  
  
Brian turns to face Danny on the couch, one leg curled up, the other hanging off the edge. “I don’t even know where to start,” he says with a frustrated laugh. “There’s...there’s a lot.”  
  
“Just start wherever.” The serious way that Danny’s watching him is so unfamiliar that Brian feels too exposed already. “I’m not going anywhere, man, I don’t care how long it takes.”  
  
Brian wishes he could get Dan to promise that. The likelihood of their friendship staying strong after this conversation is slim to none, and he knows that better than anyone. He can kiss those dreams of touring with him goodbye. As tempting as it is to pour out every single thing he’s never discussed with anyone out right here, right now, Brian steels himself and decides to dive right in. “I’m in love with you.”  
  
Silence. Danny finally offers a reply. “Okay.”  
  
“That all you got, Avidan?”  
  
“I don’t think that’s all _you’ve_ got, Wecht,” Dan fires back. He smiles so softly that Brian feels every muscle in his body ache. “Keep talking.”  
  
Brian hides behind his hands for a second just to gather himself. “Okay.” He leans forward another inch and drops his voice, because discussing his most intimate desires over a murmur feels too loud and devastating. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”  
  
“Since you met me?” Dan prompts.  
  
“Maybe.” Brian is a sap – he’s always known that – so he can’t shut himself up. “Definitely since the first time I heard you laugh.”  
  
Dan releases that devastating laugh now, all feathers and bells. “Really?”  
  
“Really. Trust me, I wasn’t happy about it.” Brian huffs. “I wasn’t exactly used to feeling that much.”  
  
“Don’t lie, you have feelings every day of your life.”  
  
“Not that many.” He shakes his head. “You really don’t understand.”  
  
“So help me understand.” He curls up against the back of the couch, his cheek resting on it, looking so soft and comfortable that Brian can almost pretend they’re two lovers spending a restful afternoon together, that any moment Brian’s going to go make them both coffee and feel the surprise of Danny wrapping his arms around him from behind.  
  
Brian weighs his thoughts. He’s never verbalized them before, and the mere idea of doing so is the most intimidating thing he’s ever felt. “I’ve had a lot of strong friendships. I’ve had friends and family I’ve loved. But I’d never met someone who made my heart pound so hard that I almost made myself sick.”  
  
“Until me?” Dan asks, almost on a whisper.  
  
“Until you,” Brian says with a nod. “You were...fuck, I didn’t even know what I was feeling. Do you remember the early days, when I sort of pushed you around and made fun of you a lot?”  
  
“Do I,” Dan says with a laugh.  
  
“Yeah, that...was me sort of pulling your pigtails, I guess. I wasn’t sure what was going on. Just that I was scared about it. And that you were shaping this perfect heterosexual sex god character, and that you never wanted a guy to so much as touch you, and that, whatever it was I was feeling, I didn’t have a chance of figuring it out with you.” Brian can still feel it – the ache of nerves whenever he was getting ready to see Dan, the way he could barely keep his attention on his keyboard when Dan was singing a few practice phrases next to him, how breathing was the last thing Brian knew how to do when he was by his side. “It felt...offensive, really, trying to parse through it without your consent.”  
  
“You thought you liking a guy was offensive?” Dan asks, and the astonishment on his voice is so audible that if Brian knew him any less he would assume Dan was playing it up to mock him. But Danny wouldn’t. He knows that much.  
  
“To you,” Brian amends. “I’m actually kind of surprised you’re not trying to kick my ass right now.”  
  
Danny’s jaw drops. “Brian, there’s super few things I would kick your ass over, and this isn’t one of them.”  
  
Affirmation isn’t what Brian’s looking for right now. It just risks making him feel warm and hopeful. But he leans on the potential comedy. “And what exactly would you fight me over? If I ate all your Skittles?”  
  
“Abso-fucking-lutely, dude.” Dan reaches out and pushes Brian, and Brian pretends to fall over just to hear him laugh again. “A girl’s never kicked my ass for liking her. I don’t see why I’ve gotta do that to you.”  
  
“It’s different.” Brian holds his eyes. “You’ve heard of homophobia, right? And its oh-so-mild effect on human society?”  
  
Danny stammers wordlessly. His skin goes just a little pink, and he rubs the back of his neck as he finally settles back into his seat. “Okay, so. Okay. So I’ve been an ass in the past.”  
  
“What kind of ass?”  
  
“A hom...goddammit, Brian.”  
  
Brian stares at him unblinkingly.  
  
Dan buries his face in his knobby knees, growls against them, and then sits up tall again. “I’ve said homophobic shit.”  
  
“Good boy,” Brian says. He gently waves his hand through the air. “And?”  
  
“And I’m sorry,” Dan says as remorsefully as any man could be.  
  
“Good.” Brian considers him a little longer, then sighs. “I think I’d like it better if you were still a homophobic asshole.”  
  
“Why?” Danny asks.  
  
“Because I could write you off a hell of a lot better.” Brian smiles wryly. “You’re something special, Dan. I’ve gotta be honest, I’m having trouble figuring out how to get over you. And I haven’t been able to find anybody that makes me feel like you do.”  
  
“Really?” His eyes widened. “You’ve tried, right?”  
  
“Oh God.” Brian rubs his face and groans. “I’ve tried a lot, man.”  
  
“How many times?”  
  
“About twice every weekend back in London,” Brian says dryly.  
  
There’s a long moment before Dan seems to remember to laugh. “Oh, really.”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“Good times all around?”  
  
Brian remembers them too well. There was always something pleasant about the adrenaline sport of picking someone at the bar, his body felt warm when they kissed on a couch or in the back of a car or in a bed, and everything reacted appropriately when they had sex. But there was no spark. There was nothing that ever made him want to pursue the same person again. It was an endless revolving door of sweaty bodies and unremarkable conversation, and he’d only done it the next day because the loneliness had never quite abetted.  
  
“Brian?”  
  
“Not very good, no. Average. Below average.” He shifts on the couch. “I’ll be honest, I always wondered if there was just something...incorrectly made about me, perhaps. If I’m missing a certain gene that makes people react appropriately to other people.”  
  
“But you’re not, though,” Danny interjects.  
  
Brian huffs a laugh. “Because I’m Brian Wecht, with a PHD. There can’t ever be anything wrong with me. I’m very aware.”  
  
“Not even.” Dan knocks a foot out against Brian’s leg and draws Brian’s gaze. “Because of me. Right? Because you feel it for me?”  
  
Brian stands up before he can lose his breath again. “I told you, Daniel, no patronizing.”  
  
“What’s patronizing about that?” Danny asks, laughing.  
  
“It’s patronizing if you get noble.” Brian walks over to the balcony, his arms crossed over his chest. “If you think, ‘Well, Brian only has one chance at love, so I can give it a shot so he can be happy.’”  
  
“You think I’m that selfless?”  
  
“I _know_ you’re that selfless.”  
  
“Well, then, hey!” Danny claps his hands together once and stands up too. “I guess it’s my turn to talk!”  
  
“Oh, is it?”  
  
“Yeah, man, I let you say your piece already. And you’re done, right?”  
  
“I am never done.”  
  
“’Kay, don’t care!” Dan tosses an arm over Brian’s shoulder, and they both stare out the window while Brian tries to pretend his heart isn’t hammering and his body isn’t burning up with an aching need for Danny to touch him wherever he wants. “You know how you used to tell me when you’d be going out to hook up with people?”  
  
“Yep.” Brian frowns.  
  
“And how I eventually told you to just, like, stop telling me or whatever?”  
  
He certainly remembers deliberately ignoring that statement a few more times just to see if he could get Danny to yell at him. No dice. “Yeah.”  
  
“Well!” Dan’s voice is full of sunshine and rainbows. “It’s because it really pissed me off!”  
  
Brian doesn’t mean to laugh, but there’s something irresistible about when Danny’s tone conflicts with the words he says. “You don’t say.”  
  
“Yeah, man!” Dan pats his shoulder so firmly that Brian almost buckles. “No, it gets even better than that. You know about how you had to start canceling our Skype business calls when things got super fucking hairy during your exam times?”  
  
“Uh-huh?”  
  
“I straight up almost cried one time when you did that!”  
  
“You did not,” Brian says, elbowing him.  
  
“I absolutely did! You know why?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“No fucking clue!” Danny grins at him in the glass, and Brian looks up at him. “No, I just spent all this time getting no shit done at Polaris or with the Grumps because I’d be throwing a fit that you were getting laid or because you were hanging out with your cool professor buddies or something. Funny, right?”  
  
Brian isn’t sure if it’s actually funny or not. He stares at Dan too hard, hard enough that he thinks he can feel it on his skin. “And did you ever figure out why it made you feel that way?”  
  
“Yeah, like, a week ago. Funny you should ask that.”  
  
Brian considers himself focused and intelligent and driven. He does not consider himself brave. “Huh. Good for you, man.”  
  
He considers Danny reckless, however, so when Danny moves in front of him and leans back against the glass – close to Brian, too close, and right where the sun lights up his hair like a fucking halo – he isn’t surprised when he smirks and keeps talking. “Because, you see, I asked myself something: if I was feeling that way about a girl, what would I call it?”  
  
_Oh shit._ Brian’s heart stops.  
  
“I’d call it jealousy.” The corners of his eyes wrinkle with his smile. “Because I would want her all to myself.”  
  
There’s a hundred things that statement can mean, and Brian wishes he had a month to analyze them before he had to see Danny’s face again. But the world is not that kind. It’s put Danny right in front of him, where he can watch Brian’s brain rush forward with no idea where it’s going to end up.  
  
The past ten seconds have made him no braver than he was the past forty-one years, and so since he’s stuck with his preexisting mind, he clears his throat. “Then we probably should never get another bandmate.”  
  
Danny laughs. As the sound dissipates, he looks over Brian’s face, his gaze warm and focused. “...I know you, Brian. I know you’re probably thinking of a back door out of this.”  
  
“Back door,” Brian instinctively repeats with a forced laugh.  
  
“Shut up.” Dan touches his shoulder and lights a circuit in Brian’s body, tickling him with electricity. “We can talk about buttsex later. When you’re _not_ trying to deflect from the conversation. And the fact that I know you’re gonna try and find a way to leave.”  
  
Brian juts his chin out. “I would never.”  
  
“Says the England guy.” Dan’s thumb brushes over Brian’s shoulder, and suddenly his shirt feels far too thin, as if Dan is touching his bare skin instead. “Stick with me. Let me figure some shit out. Okay?”  
  
Brian holds his eyes firmer than he’s ever held anything in his life. “For what purpose?” he asks. “Where exactly do you think your mind’s going to take you once you’ve figured your shit out?”  
  
“I...” Danny wrinkles his brow. He stares hard at the shape of Brian’s mouth, and for the first time in all their years of knowing each other Brian feels the first spring of hope in his chest, thundering higher and higher into the sky. “...I really don’t know, man. There’s a lot going on.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Like the fact that I don’t...know what this is.” He drops his hand and moves away, but their shoulders graze together and Brian’s mortified to feel himself shiver from head to toe in aching need. “I mean, I’m scared shitless about what...what would be...expected of me.”  
  
Brian watches him in the window until his reflection is blurred by the sun. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
  
“Buttsex, Brian!” Danny bursts out. “We’ve written fucking songs about it and you _still_ make me have to say it, Jesus Christ.”  
  
“You think I’d expect that from you?” Brian turns around, and Danny stands on the far end of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. “Dan, I’ve never been more sincere about anything in my life when I say I’d never expect you to do anything with me that you weren’t interested in. I mean, fuck, thirty seconds ago I still thought you were going to end up hating me, and now you’re telling me you might...that you get jealous when I’m with other people? That you’re figuring out what that means?” Brian breathes a laugh. “I-I mean, it’s not exactly you asking me out on a date, but it’s more than I ever fucking thought I’d have. And that’s fine.”  
  
Dan turns his head and looks at Brian out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t know that for sure.”  
  
“I know that I feel ten times better just getting out all the shit I’ve held inside for years now.” Brian perches on the arm of the couch – if he stays on his feet he’s going to go wrap Danny up in his arms from behind. “I know I can make a friendship work now without being scared you’re gonna run for the hills. I know I’ll be happy with it. I know I don’t need anything else. And guess what?”  
  
“What?” Danny asks a little dully, in the tone Brian knows he uses when he’s trying to hide his nervousness.  
  
“If you decided you wanted to go on a date with me, that’s all I’d ever need. If you decided you wanted to kiss me, that’s all I’d ever need. And if you decided you never wanted to do anything sexual with me ever, I’d never push you or guilt you for anything else. Because I’m not an asshole.”  
  
Dan snorts, but his shoulders relax. “You’re absolutely an asshole, shut up.”  
  
“But not about consent.” Brian waits for Danny to drop his arms to his side, as relaxed as he thinks he’s going to get him. “Listen, we don’t ever have to talk about this again. Don’t think you have to give me closure or anything.”  
  
“But then you’ll just go through life thinking you’re unlovable or something,” Danny whines.  
  
“Or I’ll go through life knowing that you’re fucking heterosexual,” Brian fires back. “Oh no, a fate worse than death!”  
  
“You’re an asshole,” Dan says, but he’s smiling.  
  
Brian stands up, and Danny faces him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going back to England. Okay?”  
  
“Even if it takes me a whole fucking year to figure this out?” Danny asks tentatively.  
  
“Even if it takes until we’re a hundred years old.”  
  
“Promise?”  
  
“Promise.” Brian holds out his hand. “Pinky swear.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Pinky swear, Dan,” Brian says warningly as he begins to advance on him. “Don’t leave me hanging here. You’re bound by our friendship to pinky swear whenever I see fit.”  
  
“That wasn’t in the contract!”  
  
“It sure as hell was. Pinky out, Avidan.”  
  
“No!” Dan grabs his jacket from the coat closet and storms toward the front door in a cloud of bubbly laughter. “Fuck you! I’ll see you at work tomorrow!”  
  
“I look forward to it,” Brian says a little softer than he means to.  
  
Danny pauses, his hand on the doorknob, and after a few seconds he looks at Brian. “You’re not even gonna ask me for a hug or something?” he teases.  
  
Brian blinks. “I already told you I don’t expect anything-”  
  
“Yeah, but, I mean, a guy needs to know he’s wanted.” Danny smiles, but the edges of the grin twitch just enough for Brian to know he’s still a nervous wreck.  
  
Brian considers exactly how much honesty he wants to offer at this exact moment. Too much directness will all but scare Dan away, and he knows that better than anyone. But if he needs validation… Brian comes forward and opens his arms. “I want a hug.”  
  
“Is that all you want?” Danny teases as he comes into his arms and squeezes him. But then he doesn’t let go. “Tell me something else you want. Anything.”  
  
“Anything?” Brian confirms.  
  
“Yeah, fire the fuck away.”  
  
He could tell Danny that he’s the only one Brian’s fantasized about in the past three years. He could tell him that he wants to know what Danny wants to name his first child. He could tell him that Brian would roll over for him in bed every fucking night, if that’s what it took for Dan to feel comfortable with ever having a sexual relationship with him, and that he’d expect no reciprocation. But instead he simply turns his head and murmurs near his ear, “I’ve wanted to know if you taste like Skittles since the day I met you.”  
  
Dan’s arms tighten around him and his hands drag up fistfuls of his shirt. He exhales shakily and turns his head too, just enough that their mouths are only inches away from each other, and his eyelashes flutter. He licks his lips. “I-I could put out a survey, if you’re really that desperate to know.”  
  
There’s still a sting in the base of Brian’s gut, but he recognizes the fear in Danny’s voice, the fact that it’s all he’s able to offer right now. And so he smiles instead. “Is that what you waste Arin’s company money on?” he asks as he pulls away, even though Danny seems like he’s in no hurry to let him move away. “That’s a more dastardly plot than I’ve ever hatched.”  
  
“Yeah, well.” Dan rubs the back of his neck when he finally lets Brian go. “I guess I learned something from you, then.”  
  
“Guess so.” Brian takes step after step back, giving Danny plenty of breathing room. “You should get out of here. Be safe driving home.”  
  
Danny looks at the door, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Um.” He hesitates after opening the door. “I’ll, I’ll see you tomorrow, though, right?”  
  
“I’ll be there,” Brian says. “Ruining video after video.”  
  
“Right.” Danny laughs, and then he practically slams the door behind him.  
  
Apparently his bravery finally gave out.  
  
Brian comes to the balcony to watch Dan walk to his car. There’s a faltering sway to his hips, and the amount of times that he looks over his shoulder at Brian’s door is ridiculous. And then there’s the way he touches his mouth with two fingers, as if Brian really _had_ kissed him and his mind was still spinning with it.  
  
_Give him time,_ Brian thinks as he watches Dan climb in his car and sit there for a long few seconds before he turns it on and pulls out. _He owes you nothing. Don’t make him feel like he does._  
  
  
~~  
  
  
It’s fortunate that Brian is masochistic, given that he doesn’t get any affirmation from Danny for months.  
  
There’s a certain level of agony that he never expected in sharing a job with him now that he _knows._ It used to be that Brian could sneak glances at Danny’s ass or his face whenever he wanted, but now it seems like every time Brian looks over, Dan is already watching him. Brian used to have an excuse to sit next to Dan at meals and soak him in, but now he feels flustered even when the two of them are the last ones to get to a table and have to share a booth.  
  
Recordings are by far the worst. And it’s not just Grump recordings. They work on NSP songs. Starbomb flourishes and needs more attention than ever. There’s covers to record too. And during all of it, Brian is watching Dan in the booth, seeing how his eyes fall shut as he sings his heart out, hearing how effortlessly he creates harmonies that neither of them even talked about or practiced, and how he puts his own spin on every cover that they do so that it doesn’t encroach on the original vocalist.  
  
In short, Brian falls more in love with Danny than ever, except now he can’t risk even so much as a secret glance without feeling like a predator.  
  
He meant it when he said he could accept Danny never feeling anything for him in return and that he didn’t need closure, but now he wonders if he’s weaker than he thought he was. Every day that Brian catches Dan already staring at him without anything to say, Brian catches his breath. Every night that Brian eases his hand inside his boxers and summons a fantasy, it’s of Danny _confessing_ to him, not simply thoughtless visions of Brian getting to blow him for the first time. Everything feels messy.  
  
_And that’s okay,_ he tells himself when he’s elbow to elbow with Arin and Danny and a notebook. _I told him I expect nothing, and I meant it. I’m not going to pressure him. I’m perfectly happy with our friendship exactly as it stands now. Though it might be a good idea if I go ahead and ask if me looking at him makes him uncomfortable or-_  
  
“Brian.”  
  
He blinks and meets Arin’s eyes, trying to shake his thoughts clean. “Yes?”  
  
“What do you think?” is all Arin asks.  
  
_What do I think,_ Brian considers, then looks at the notebook to try and figure out what the fuck was even being discussed. _What do I think?_  
  
“You weren’t even listening, were you?” Danny asks dryly with a smile.  
  
Brian looks at him. “Of course I wasn’t listening. When do I listen to anything you have to say?”  
  
“Maybe when I have super fucking awesome ideas about our tour that we’re gonna do and you’re just being a little baby who doesn’t have an attention span?” Danny teases, quirking a brow and leaning in an inch.  
  
“How dare you call me a baby,” Brian snaps. “I’ll have you know I’ve been potty trained for six months now, and I-”  
  
“Oh my God, please tell me you’re done flirting.” Arin gags. “I can’t take it anymore. Holy shit.”  
  
Even though Brian’s senses go on high alert, Danny laughs and bumps shoulders with Brian. “We’ve finally figured out a way to gross Arin out, dude, we’ve got ammunition on him.”  
  
Brian takes a few seconds too long to process the fact that he’s not in trouble. “Well, thank fuck for that,” he finally manages, then clears his throat and tries to make his tone far firmer. “You, uh, you had an idea?”  
  
“Too late.” Dan leans down and scratches something out in the notebook. “Arin and I already voted on the bus we’re going to get, and you can just deal with it, motherfucker!”  
  
Brian sighs in long-suffering. “There goes any plumbing we were sure to have.”  
  
“Meeting: done!” Arin snaps the notebook shut and stands up. “I’m already late to meet Suzy for dinner, fuck, she’s gonna fucking filet me tonight, dude.”  
  
“I never took Suzy for a cannibal,” Brian says thoughtfully. He goes to follow Arin to the parking lot, but Danny grabs his wrist before he can. His nerves sing, and Brian fights every temptation to grab Danny’s hand and squeeze it. Instead, he looks down at him. “Avidan?”  
  
“Hey.” Danny smiles, then rakes his hair out of his face. “Hey, can you, um, hang out for a minute, maybe?”  
  
Brian’s heart takes off like a stallion. He sinks into his chair purely because his legs can’t support him anymore. “Yeah, absolutely, my night’s free, what’s up?” _Is that too eager?_  
  
“Great!” Dan’s voice cracks on the word, and he twists in his chair to face Brian. “Hey, do you remember that thing we talked about, like, eighty years ago?”  
  
“We’ve talked about a lot of things,” Brian says slowly, because the last thing he wants to do is hope.  
  
“The...you-having-a-thing-for-me thing,” Danny amends.  
  
“Oh.” _How do you breathe again?_ Brian gives it a try and finds his lungs are fortunately working at somewhere around half of their usual capacity. “What about it?”  
  
“I may have thought through it.” He winces. “I’m sorry it took me so long, it just-”  
  
“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I said I didn’t expect any closure, remember?”  
  
“Right.” Dan rubs his hands together and dips his head, his hair falling in his face. “Fuck. Okay. So, uh. Do you...maybe still have that thing for me?”  
  
_I’d marry you today if you asked._ Brian swallows hard. “I do still happen to have that thing for you, yes.”  
  
“Oh, cool!” Danny looks up at him and beams. “Hey, sweet, uh, guess what?”  
  
“No,” Brian says, “I hate guessing games, Dan, you know this.”  
  
“You’re so boring. Knock-knock.”  
  
Brian stares at him.  
  
“C’mon, Bri, knock-knock!”  
  
Brian sighs heavily. “Who’s there?”  
  
“Orange.”  
  
“Orange who?” Brian intones drearily.  
  
Dan grins at him. “Orange you glad to hear I maybe have a thing for you too?”  
  
It’s a blessing that Brian doesn’t have a pacemaker, he thinks, because he would have absolutely exhausted it with these damn heart palpitations going through him. “I’m a scientist, and I don’t base things on maybes,” he says, because looking up at Dan with huge star eyes already feels decidedly less Brian than anything else alive, and maybe the realist in him will help tether him to the ground before he can float away. “Could you...give me more information?”  
  
“Yeah!” Danny leans forward and puts his hands on both of Brian’s knees. “I’m having a whole big sexuality crisis, but it seems really fucked up to even _have_ a crisis if you don’t get to kiss the person that’s making it happen, like, fuck, am I right?”  
  
Brian exhales all his air at once, his skin going hot over every inch of him. “...you think you want to kiss me?”  
  
Dan leans an inch closer. “I _know_ I want to kiss you.” His gaze flicks over Brian’s face in an unfamiliar way. “I’ve talked about that a hell of a lot with Barry. I’m mostly scared that once I start, I won’t wanna stop.”  
  
“Oh.” Brian’s words choke in his throat. Dan’s far too close to him to be saying things about kissing and not acting on them, but Brian’s a patient man. He’s willing to give him whatever space he thinks he might need. “Well then.”  
  
“I wanna try it,” Dan blurts out. “That’s what I decided. A thing with you. A dating thing with you. I wanna try it and see where it goes.”  
  
Brian mouths wordlessly for a moment. “Okay,” he finally manages. He pinches his own arm. No, he’s not dreaming. This is in fact really happening.  
  
Danny squeezes his knees. “I’m not bullshitting you, Bri. I want it.”  
  
The entire room is spinning. He touches a hand to his mouth and stares at the floor, and then he begins to laugh breathlessly, more air than sound. “Holy shit.” He’s not stunned enough by this to cry. He’s not. But...how can it be real? “Are you sure?”  
  
Brian watches Danny lift a hand. It’s shaking and hesitating in front of Brian’s eyes, but finally it comes closer. Dan cups his cheek – fuck, Brian really wishes he’d shaved today – and then leans in. The brush of his lips over his cheek shoots off a firework inside of him, and Brian gasps raggedly, squeezing his eyes shut. Dan lingers close enough that warm air wafts from his parted lips over Brian’s skin. “You’re a force of nature,” Danny murmurs. His thumb brushes over Brian’s stubble. “If I was gonna question literally everything about myself, then of course it’d be over someone like you.”  
  
Brian opens his eyes. This close, Danny’s eyes are soft and warm, a beautiful coffee color that he wishes he could drown in, especially when they’re sparkling all for him. “Okay,” he says again, and then he laughs because it feels incredible. “Okay, yeah, we...we can try it.”  
  
Danny grins. As young as he is, he can’t hide the laugh lines that Brian’s watched develop over the years like an obsessive cartographer. “On one condition.”  
  
“Name it.” Brian would fucking jump off a bridge if that’s what Danny needed right now.  
  
“We take it slow.” Dan moves to touch his arm instead, like he can’t quite believe Brian is real. “I really don’t have any idea what I’m doing here, and I’m honestly scared pretty shitless.”  
  
Brian tilts his head. “What are you scared of?”  
  
“That I’m making it all up. That I’ll think this is all me having feelings for you and that it turns out I’m wrong and I’ll have to fucking break your heart. That we’ll be a bad match and I’ll ruin everything we’ve built together.” He pauses. “I’m also terrified of anal, like, holy shit, Brian.”  
  
Brian chuckles again as he reaches to push Dan’s hair out of his eyes, and just watching him flush in response is more invigorating than anything else he’s ever experienced. “I’m not going to fuck your ass, Dan,” Brian says patiently. “Not unless you ever ask me to.”  
  
“Cool.”  
  
They bask in each other for long minutes, not even speaking, simply drinking each other in. Brian’s hands wander over Dan’s cheek, his shoulders, his lower thighs, learning what he can about him and grounding him in one fell swoop, and Danny finally leans forward and presses his forehead to Brian’s shoulder with a gasp. “We’ll figure it out,” Brian murmurs. “One step at a time.”  
  
“Yeah.” Dan grins, then leaves a fleeting kiss on Brian’s neck that makes him squeeze Dan’s leg for purchase. “That sounds fun. Let’s do it.”  
  
  
~~  
  
  
It takes Danny a week to grab Brian’s hand while they’re recording music together. They’re passing each other, Brian heading to the console and Danny heading to the booth, and like a flash, there he is, snagging his hand and squeezing it.  
  
The kiss he presses to the back of it is even more dizzying, and Brian spends a long time staring blindly at the console while Danny teases him through his headphones. He knows what he did. Ass.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
It takes a month for Danny to ask Brian out to dinner. They go to their favorite restaurant, and while normally they’d have their phones or notebooks out on the table and would be brainstorming over greasy burgers or sushi, this time it’s just them on either side of this booth, watching each other, talking about their hopes and dreams for this upcoming tour, for what they want to do beyond it.  
  
At one point Brian sneaks his hand across the table, palm up, and Dan stares at it for only a second before his hand meets it. They lace fingers on top of the table, and even when the waitress brings the appetizer Dan doesn’t pull away, and Brian’s heart beats warm and steady in his chest. He feels like he’s home.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
It takes two months for Danny to corner Brian at the Grumps office. With one broad hand on Brian’s chest holding him against the wall, he looks around nervously, and then, once they’re in the clear, he leans in.  
  
Brian holds his breath as Danny kisses him, silently telling himself to memorize everything about this moment – how Danny’s hand quivers on his body, how his mouth moves against Brian’s, how he gives up and drops his hand and presses forward until the lines of their bodies are flush together and Brian’s heart is beating so fast that he thinks Danny can feel it through their ribs.  
  
He doesn’t pull away as fast as Brian expected him. He breaks the kiss in half a second, and then he surges forward like a hurricane, greedily taking everything Brian will give him.  
  
Brian would give him anything.  
  
Danny finally pulls back when they hear a sound outside the hallway, his eyes huge and his face mortified, and Brian snorts and covers his mouth with a hand. Danny quickly whispers “That was, that was nice, thank you,” and then scurries away, and Brian is left to laugh his ass off until Suzy peeks her head around the corner and sees him and shakes her head before she disappears again.  
  
Brian finds Danny on his couch a few minutes later, fitting a hand loosely around the back of his neck and leaning down, his voice soft. “So how many Skittles did you eat before you came and found me.”  
  
“Did it work?” he asks, looking up at him with bright eyes. “Did you taste them?”  
  
“I didn’t taste anything but,” Brian fires back, lifting his eyebrows. “I request a refund where I can actually find out what that perfect mouth tastes like.”  
  
Danny turns beet red, his gaze hard on Brian’s mouth, his breathing just erratic enough that Brian nearly high fives himself behind his back. “We can probably do that? Later?”  
  
“Excellent.” Brian squeezes the back of his neck and hears Dan gasp sharply in response, then pulls away before he can find anything else particularly enticing about him – if he likes having his neck squeezed like that, what else would he be up for in the bedroom? “Just let me know when I should pencil you into my busy schedule.”  
  
“Y-yeah!” Dan calls as Brian walks away with a smug smirk on his face. “Yeah, I-I’ll call you!”  
  
Brian’s never had more fun with a slow burn in his entire fucking life.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
Brian gets by with candy kisses and quiet movie night cuddles for longer than he imagines he ever would. Who needs more than that, really? Who can afford to be greedy and selfish in these times? He went through so much of his life without feeling a strong yearning for another human being; demanding more than his fair share of his lot would be a shittier thing than even he could do.  
  
For months he wonders what it’ll be like when they’re touring together – pressed close together on their bus, sharing hotel rooms at night, both burning up with the adrenaline of the stage – but what sort of asshole would have any sort of expectations for that? Not Brian, that’s for sure.  
  
Brian silently tells himself that when he’s packing his massive duffel bag for the tour and slips a box of condoms and a bottle of lube into one of the pockets. One doesn’t have to have expectations to be prepared for anything.  
  
They make it through the first show without incident. It’s on their home turf, after all, and they still feel fresh and clearheaded – they’ve barely spent any time alone together in the rush of sound checks and rehearsals.  
  
The second show is where things come to a head.  
  
They expect a huge response from fucking California, of course – it’s their base of operations, and if they _didn’t_ have fans there then something would be wrong – but there’s something dizzying about getting an equally huge response from a state so far away from Cali. There’s no excuse of a con crowd here, where someone might come to an event and then just wander into one of their concerts when there’s nothing left to do that night. No, every single human being in that venue came purely for them. They packed themselves like sardines into a baking-hot building and screamed their asses off for them. They participated beautifully, they demanded an encore with a feverish fervor, and as they ended the show with “The Hit” Brian looked over and saw Danny’s face, shining both with sweat and ecstasy.  
  
It’s the perfect end to a night, he thinks. He doesn’t need anything more than to see Danny so blissful over finally achieving this modicum of success.  
  
As all of them surge off the stage, Brian knows the exact moment that Danny grabs his hand – the electricity shooting through them is enough to short circuit an entire city. He spins around and gets only half a second to take in Dan’s focused face before Dan is whipping off his mask and digging his hand into Brian’s sweaty hair and dragging him in for a kiss.  
  
It’s not fucking chaste either. Dan sinks his tongue into Brian’s mouth for the first time, right here, in front of band and stagehands alike, and when Brian’s knees buckle in shock Dan pulls Brian flush against him, where Brian can feel the press of his cup.  
  
He wonders what’s under it, if Danny’s hard as nails from the adrenaline.  
  
Brian barely speaks on the bus ride to the hotel. There’s room in the bus for sleeping, of course, but there’s seven members of the band alone, and that pushes the bus beyond its limits. The two of them drew the lucky straw for a hotel room tonight, and every vein in his body sparks and twitches with potential. While Danny and Arin recount each notable moment and fuck-up in the show, Brian slows his breathing and tries to pretend he isn’t zoned in on where Danny’s gripping his hand and hasn’t let go since they climbed onto the bus.  
  
The hotel is seamless. They check in. They find their room. They get the door open. And then they stand in the center of it, and Brian pretends that the massive king-sized bed isn’t the only thing his mind is focused on.  
  
After long silent tense seconds, Brian swallows hard and meets Danny’s eyes. “I think I’ll take the shower first, if you don’t mind,” Brian says slowly, setting his bag down and leaning to open it.  
  
“Fuck the fucking shower,” Danny breathes as he storms forward and grabs Brian and kisses him again.  
  
They awkwardly land on the bed with the lack of grace of any new couple who’s never touched each other before. There’s nothing but primal urges pushing them faster and faster through slick kisses and surprised gasps and seeking hands.  
  
Danny gropes one of Brian’s pecs through the heavy material of his sweatshirt, and he swears against his mouth and moves away just as quickly. “Sorry-”  
  
“Don’t apologize,” Brian says quickly. The last thing he wants is his lack of tits to scare Dan away.  
  
Brian’s not even sure when the clothes start coming off. He hears the thud of Dan’s enormous awful shoes on the floor just seconds before his sweatshirt’s being ripped over his head. Dan has the bravery to get them down to just their underwear, and then he pants above Brian, his hair in a massive halo around his face, his eyes flicking anxiously over Brian’s body.  
  
“W-we can stop,” Brian says. He reaches up and runs his hand down Dan’s narrow waist and tries to pretend he’s never dreamed of touching him just like this. “We don’t have to do anything.”  
  
Dan meets his eyes, and the intensity in them is almost enough to burn Brian alive. “I don’t wanna stop, Bri.”  
  
He swallows. He gently rolls them both onto their sides, where he can pet down Dan’s back and try to focus him. “What do you wanna do?”  
  
Danny stammers wordlessly, and then he laughs and covers his eyes. “I-I wanna fuck you.”  
  
“Shit,” Brian murmurs raggedly just before he rolls Danny over and kisses him again.  
  
He makes sure to kiss Danny into a hazy silence before he pulls away, but Dan still grabs his wrist and makes a low whining sound. Brian shushes him, kissing his wrist, and when Dan lets go Brian wastes no time in finding his supplies. He rips the box of condoms open so violently that they rain down on the floor, and Danny laughs. “You stupid bastard.”  
  
“I am,” Brian agrees as he gets the lube open too, then tosses both things on the bed and crawls between Dan’s legs. He works his own boxers off first, his body curved so Dan can’t catch a glimpse of his cock, and then he tugs Dan’s briefs down inch by inch, leaving kisses over his skin as he goes.  
  
“Fuck,” Danny whispers. He gasps and trembles under Brian, eyelashes fluttering, and he buries his hand in Brian’s hair. The circuit flows strong through them, looping over and over again until they’re throwing off static. Brian’s short nails drag down Dan’s skin and leave red marks in their wake, claiming and fierce.  
  
Normally Brian would tease his partner here and make them beg for what they wanted, but the second Dan’s long, pretty cock bounces into view, he can’t keep himself from taking it in his mouth.  
  
“Fuck!” Danny arches his chest and covers his mouth, crying out into his palm. He’s fucking incredible, all lean lines and jutting edges down his body, and Brian hungrily takes in every inch of his skin as he sucks at the head of his cock.  
  
This is the game, now, keeping Danny distracted by his mouth while Brian gets the messy stuff out of the way. He knows Dan. He knows what he’s afraid of and what might trigger him to be even more nervous. So he pops the lube open with one hand as he drags his tongue up the underside of his shaft, then generously coats his fingers before shoving the bottle away.  
  
As Brian does gymnastics to start easing his fingers inside of himself, he watches pink spread down Danny’s chest and memorizes the vein bulging in his neck.  
  
He’s perfect.  
  
It’s quick and dirty – he stretches himself perfunctorily and ignores the ache from how quickly he goes, masochistically eating up the endorphins and channeling them into bobbing his head and watching Danny lose his goddamn mind. And by the time that Dan meets his eyes with fluttering lashes and a wrinkled brow, Brian knows he can’t wait a goddamn second longer.  
  
“You ready to fuck me, Danny?” Brian breathes as he comes onto his knees and goes for a condom.  
  
Danny stares, eyes huge. It takes Brian a long moment to realize what he’s staring at. “Brian.”  
  
“It’s a dick,” Brian says. He rips the condom open with his teeth just for effect and pinches the tip as he rolls it down Danny’s cock. “It’s just like any other dick in the world.”  
  
“It’s fucking massive, don’t lie to me, how did you get a fucking horse cock?!” Danny demands.  
  
“It doesn’t matter.” Brian pumps his lubed hand up and down Danny’s cock to watch him gasp, then leans forward to kiss him. “You don’t ever have to take it if you don’t want. And if you ever do, I’ll make sure you’re so ready that you barely even feel the stretch. I’ll never hurt you. Unless you ask.”  
  
Danny laughs. His hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead and his pupils are dilated wider than Brian’s ever seen them. “Unless I ask?”  
  
Brian smiles and gives him a peck. “We can talk about that later. When we’re not making love.”  
  
“Oh.” Danny shivers all over at the words just like Brian does, and as Brian sits tall on his knees Dan wraps his hands around his hips. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Brian, I-I don’t regret anything, and I-”  
  
“You’re cute when you ramble,” Brian says just before he slowly takes Dan inside of him.  
  
“Oh my God!” Dan throws his head back and sinks his nails into Brian’s skin, dredging up flames inside of him. “Oh, holy shit, Bri.”  
  
“Yeah,” Brian breathes. He doesn’t blink; he keeps his eyes on Danny’s face and commits every bit of it to memory, just like the stretch in his own body. “You’re incredible.”  
  
Danny gasps shakily, his hips twitching, and Brian rubs his thigh soothingly as he works his way down. It’s less than thirty seconds before he’s fully seated, and he clenches around Dan just to watch him nearly bite through his bottom lip.  
  
“You can fuck me now,” Brian says as he leans over Danny, his hands on either side of his face, and he stares up at Brian in utter rapture. “As hard as you want. Just like you wanted all night onstage, didn’t you?”  
  
“Fuck,” Danny whispers.  
  
“C’mon, Avidan,” Brian teases with a grin and clenches around him again. “Or do you want me to take over?”  
  
Danny flips them over and crushes the air out of Brian with his body. He stares at him wide-eyed like he can’t believe he actually took charge, and Brian squeezes his bony hips with his thighs. “You want me to fuck you?” Danny asks breathlessly.  
  
Fuck, those words are sweet in Brian’s ears. _How many times have I fantasized about them?_ He drags his nails down Dan’s back and nods. “Yeah, c’mon, Dan, fuck me silly, c’mon.”  
  
And he does, Jesus, he doesn’t disappoint. He snaps his hips like a goddamn machine gun, holding Brian firmly where he wants him, their skin slapping together obscenely. Brian thought that he’d memorized every remotely sexual sound Dan’s ever made, but he’s wrong, he’s fucking wrong – those sounds he heard groaned into the mic were nothing compared to what Danny’s giving him now.  
  
Rough moans and jagged breaths fill Brian’s ear as Danny grabs his thigh and pushes it to shift his angle. He clearly has no idea where a prostate is, and Brian knows he could teach him even now, but no, he wants this, _just_ like this – he wants it hard and rough and mindless so he can see the bruises on his hips tomorrow and know that it’s _real._  
  
Brian sinks his teeth into Danny’s neck and bucks his hips when he hears Dan’s musical cry against him. “That’s it,” Brian whispers, “that’s it, just like that, Dan, so fucking good-”  
  
“You’re so tight,” Dan pants back. “Holy shit, Brian, you feel so, so...”  
  
Dan’s belly rubs against Brian’s cock with every thrust, a feverish tease that has Brian curling his toes. And he knows right here and now that he’ll never get enough of Dan. Not ever.  
  
“I-I’m, fuck, Brian, I’m close.”  
  
“You’d better fucking come, then,” Brian growls back. “C’mon, fill me up, Avidan, right now.”  
  
“God!” Danny buries his face in Brian’s neck and snaps his hips without any sense of rhythm, and when he sinks down against Brian with a rough sigh he gathers him up in his arms and holds him tight. “Oh my God.”  
  
“You’re fucking incredible,” Brian whispers. He guides Danny into soft, sweet kisses, learning how Danny likes to be touched when he’s coming down. Dan arches like a cat and nearly purrs too when he lightly scratches his back, and Brian grins against his mouth. And though the words are right on the tip of his tongue - _I love you_ \- he holds them in and settles for nuzzling his cheek instead when Dan pulls back.  
  
“You haven’t come,” Dan says accusingly.  
  
Brian chuckles. “No, I haven’t. I don’t need to.”  
  
“That’s fucking, you’re lying!” Dan snaps. He sits up and pulls out of Brian, working on removing and tying the condom. “Get yourself off! Right now!”  
  
“Listen to who thinks he’s still in control here,” Brian teases. But he can’t deny that he’s so close to coming that he could practically breathe and make it happen. So he drops his hand around his cock and lazily tugs, his eyes glued to Danny’s face. And Danny watches, enraptured, until Brian grunts and catches his cum in his hand, shivering under Danny’s weight on his thighs.  
  
Danny shakes his head slowly. “Goddamn.”  
  
“Yeah.” Brian smiles up at him again, then looks at his hand. “Fuck. I’m about to pass out.”  
  
Dan practically falls out of the bed with how quickly he goes to throw out the condom and grab a towel. He tosses it to Brian, and Brian grunts when it lands on his face and shoots him a look when Danny laughs.  
  
It’s enough, though. He cleans his hand as Danny drops onto the bed beside him and tugs the sheets up. “Sleep?”  
  
“Sleep,” Brian agrees. He leans over and turns out the light.  
  
They fall asleep within seconds.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
Waking up alone and naked is never a good feeling, and Brian feels a flood of panic until he realizes that he hears Danny showering. Right. Okay. Good. He sits up and winces – he didn’t regret the fast prep the night before, but his body sure as hell isn’t happy about it now – and takes stock of how he feels before he goes for his clothes. He can grab a shower later.  
  
Mostly he’s worried about Danny. They dove into the sex with next to no discussion the night before after Dan had held things at bay for so long. They’d gone straight to bed without unpacking any potentially complicated feelings there. And suddenly Brian was well aware of exactly how much there might be to lose.  
  
He sits down heavily after he changes and pulls out his phone. There’s a quick check-in with Arin about getting to the bus at the right time, and he replies back. Just to burn off his nervous energy he collects their clothes from the night before and folds them before putting them back in their respective suitcases.  
  
He’s in the middle of making the bed when Dan comes out of the bathroom. “What are you doing?” Danny asks.  
  
Brian pauses. “Nothing.” He steps away. “Hey.”  
  
“Hey.” Danny watches him from a distance, but he gives him a little smile anyway. “No shower?”  
  
“What? No, I just...figure I’ll grab one tonight, maybe.”  
  
“You’re gonna be fucking gross, dude.”  
  
Dude. Brian weighs that word and tries to figure out if Dan’s using it to put distance again. He watches Dan come over and collect both of their bags, slinging Brian’s over his shoulder. Dan looks at him with that same smile, but he moves away before Brian can take a step toward him. “Heading out?” Brian asks.  
  
“Yeah, the guys wanna get breakfast, let’s go.”  
  
Brian and Dan walk silently down to check out and meet the bus. They sit in the lobby on the same couch and stare at the TV that’s playing the news.  
  
When Dan slowly reaches his hand over and takes Brian’s, Brian suddenly remembers how to breathe.  
  
“I don’t think we’re drawing the straw for the hotel room on our next stop,” Dan says softly, and when Brian looks up at him he’s grinning. “How fast do you think they’ll kick our asses if we jizz all over the bed in the bus?”  
  
Relief floods through every inch of Brian, and he laughs as he leans over and rests his head on Dan’s shoulder. “That’s an experiment I’m willing to try.”  
  
“Good, good.” Dan presses a kiss to the top of Brian’s head. “I look forward to it.”  
  
Brian closes his eyes, letting the simple pleasure sink into him. “We should do more than that. Plastic liner over the toilet. Whoopie cushions.”  
  
“You’re evil,” Dan murmurs as he tilts Brian’s chin up and kisses him square on the lips in front of the hotel staff. And it’s better than anything Brian could’ve dreamed.


End file.
